Signs of Life
by bravevulnerability
Summary: They meet again in the hospital. AU. Cover art by half0utloud.
1. Chapter 1

_Something kept me standing by that hospital bed,_

_I should have quit but instead,_

_I took care of you_

_-Kettering by The Antlers_

* * *

"I'm sorry, but do we look like we have room for this?" Rick sighed tiredly, waving his hand over the crowded hospital lobby. "Those rooms are for actively recovering patients, not lifeless bodies."

The nursing home representative sent him a cool glare, and yeah, maybe that was a little uncalled for, but this was a busy hospital with little space available as it was, and now the people of the board had just decided that a few of the nursing home patients could reside here while their current residence underwent construction. How was that fair?

He sighed again - in resignation this time - and directed his hand towards the elevator.

"Floor three is our most vacant area, there should be room up there."

"Thank you, Doctor Rodgers." the woman replied coldly, her eyes narrowed disapprovingly as she passed.

Rick watched as the nursing home staff carefully wheeled in the six patients that would be staying at the hospital, all coma patients by the looks of it. He was prepared to turn away, head back to check on the man he had performed emergency surgery on just a few hours before, when he saw the last patient being pushed through the lobby doors.

"Excuse me, who's this?" he asked, subtly approaching one of the male nurses before he could completely make it into the building, attempting to keep the horror from his voice as he stared down at the woman in the gurney.

"Oh, this is Katherine Beckett," he answered easily, clueless to any interest Rick may have shown in her. "You know her?"

_Kate._

"Uh - no, she just…she looked familiar."

"Ah, well, real shame, huh? Such a pretty girl."

"What happened to her?" he murmured, refraining from reaching out to brush the soft strands of stray hair from Kate Beckett's face.

He did know her.

"Car accident almost two years ago. Not sure what happened, but she hit her head, went into a coma, never woke up." The younger man shrugged while Rick strolled with him through the hospital lobby towards the elevators.

Morning subway routes. A night at a bar. Hazel eyes glinting with clever mischief. He knew her.

"Well, see ya around, Doctor Rodgers." the attendant chirped, wheeling Kate forward into the lift and leaving Rick behind.

The nursing home representative eyed him skeptically, obviously having witnessed the exchange, and he quickly turned away.

Kate Beckett. He knew her.

* * *

Rick took the subway home even though he knew walking would be quicker at this time of night. But after seeing her in the hospital today, lifeless and sentenced to unconsciousness, he felt drawn to the first place he had ever laid eyes on Katherine Beckett.

It had been at least three years ago, he had been running late -_ really_ late - and if he would have been late to work again, he would have risked losing his job at the hospital that year. He hadn't meant to stay up so late writing the night before and then sleep through his alarm the next morning, it had just happened. For the third time that month.

He remembered sighing in relief as the train took off, leaving his arrival to the hospital up to the silver bullet he and fifty other people had been squeezed into. He had known most of the passengers – sort of – saw them all on a daily basis, and it was because of them that his morning subway ride had become his favorite part of the day.

On occasions when he was actually on time in the mornings, he would take out his black moleskin notebook and write one of the loyal subway patron's stories, spinning an elaborate tale about the life of the man with the green umbrella always tucked under his arm despite the weather or the woman with the electric blue streaks in her otherwise uncolored blonde hair.

People watching - it had been and still was his absolute favorite past time. That was why when someone new had come aboard on the first stop that morning three years ago, he had noticed.

There had been two of them, a man and a woman, but it was the woman - the gorgeous woman - that had caught his eye the moment he saw her face in the crowded train.

He'd immediately noticed that she rode the train with ease, telling him she was likely a native to the city, and he couldn't help but enjoy the view of her lean figure standing confidently to the side while she allowed another couple to take the last two open seats, much to her partner's chagrin.

She had the face of a model, but most days she wore suits, slimming slacks that accentuated her height and fitted blazers that clung to her frame. Some days she would wear leather jackets and tight jeans instead, though, which he always appreciated. And she was always in heels – tall, towering four-inch heels that always left him wondering how she walked anywhere, let alone strode out of the train with such great confidence once they reached her stop.

Her appearance made the task of narrowing down her profession much harder than he had anticipated, but he'd always liked a challenge. The endeavor of learning her eye color had become his greatest feat though, but had always remained an ongoing mission - as it was hard to determine someone's eye color from afar without staring creepily for long periods of time.

Despite Rick's restless love for books and writing, he had grown to despise the concept of love at first sight. For this woman, he had made an exception. He was hopelessly infatuated. For over six months, even after he made the discovery that taking the subway took him longer than simply leaving his loft early and walking, he shared a train with fifty strangers, and the beautiful woman. He never spoke to her, only admired her from his usual place a few seats down. The man who accompanied her - a dark haired male who looked as if he spent the majority of his time at a gym - had luckily not been an everyday companion. Rick liked to pretend he was a brother or a cousin or perhaps a friend who was interested in the opposite gender, but on one of the few times he had seen the two of them on the subway together, he had witnessed the muscular escort snake an arm around her waist or peck a quick kiss to her lips.

He had hated muscle man.

But he'd loved the beautiful woman - as silly as that sounded when he hadn't even known her - so he had started writing about her, even when he wasn't on the subway.

At first, writing anything other than Derrick Storm had been a hobby he only pursued out of boredom or spare time, like on the subway when he had nothing better to do, but the mystery woman - that he now knew as comatose Kate Beckett - had caused steady streams of words and countless hours of stories to plague his brain more than ever before. With him as the writer and her as the muse, he wrote multiple scenarios, hundreds of pages, all starring her. Most of them consisted of him actually speaking to her, something he had never accomplished in reality.

Eye contact had finally been made for the first - and final - time the last day he ever saw her on the train. She had glanced up at just the right moment, caught him staring at her, and the hazel orbs of her eyes, rimmed with brown and feathered with flecks of gold, had been ingrained into his memory. He would never forget them, or the charming smile she had shared with him.

That had been well over two years ago.

She hadn't miraculously awoken the moment he saw her again like she would have in the books or the movies, but even he - ever the skeptic - had to admit it was quite the coincidence to have the woman he had fallen in love with on the subway under his care - comatose, but in his life nonetheless.

If fate was real, it was funny, but it definitely wasn't fair.

* * *

**A/N: I'm aware there's a great possibility that this concept may have been used to some extent in the past, but I do have a clear outline of where I intend to take this story, and I hope you'll stick with me through this little journey.**


	2. Chapter 2

Kate Beckett was only going to be stationed at the hospital for a week, but he had the dreadful feeling that it was going to be one of the longest weeks of his life. She was staying in a room on a floor he had no reason to be on, all of his current patients were either on level one or two, so it should have been easy to keep her from his mind, to avoid the thought of her completely, but she still got to him. It was as if her mere presence in the building had a magnetic effect.

He felt…connected to this woman, and just the thought of that cliché line had him cringing. At this rate, he'd be writing a romance novel all week. But now that Derrick Storm was dead, he didn't see why not. At least it would be _something _to get Gina off his back.

He held out for an entire 24 hours before he ended up ghosting the halls of the third floor between shifts, stealing a glimpse of her sleeping figure every time he passed her partially open door. Finally, after receiving a strange look from one of the nursing home attendants that had noticed his lingering presence as he had changed Kate's G-Tube and done a short series of exercises to stimulate her dormant muscles, Rick had forced himself inside. Maybe spending a few minutes with her would give him a sort of closure.

Katherine Beckett, whom he had only known as 'Kate' and only for too short of a time, had taken up a type of residence in his chest, somewhere near his heart, and after she had suddenly disappeared – from the subway and his life altogether – a feeling of emptiness had taken her place. Again, he felt ridiculous, feeling so deeply for someone he had never gotten the chance to truly know, but maybe that was the worst part. In the handful of moments he had been granted with her that night he actually saw her outside of their shared public transportation, he had perceived her as someone he might be willing to let past the surface and open his heart to. A privilege no one had been granted in a long time, not since Alexis…

Rick scrubbed at his face and approached the side of her bed, made himself stare down at the unconscious woman he had pondered over the idea of caring about for so long. She was colorless now - cheeks that were once flushed with life and ambition drained and hollowed, eyes that had remained fiercely vivid in his memory hidden behind closed lids that would likely never open again, and luscious curls that had shone gold in morning sunlight turned to a limp, dull mane strung haphazardly over starch pillows.

He sighed dolefully, reached out to tenderly skim a finger over the top of her hand.

"I'm sorry, Kate," he murmured, so quietly he doubted anyone – let alone her unconscious mind – could hear.

And then he left Kate Beckett's room.

* * *

Rick was getting his things together later that evening, packing up his messenger bag and feeling the strain in his rigid muscles finally beginning to loosen at the thought of heading home for the night. It had been one of those rare slow days at the hospital, which he hated. He preferred the constant action the ER usually provided compared to a day that dragged on and gave him too much time with his thoughts.

"Hey Rodgers, your patient in 308 is getting agitated," his head nurse, Lisa, called to him as she passed by with an IV pole trailing at her side.

"Room 308? I don't have a patient there. There's only a woman in a coma."

"Well, she isn't in a coma anymore, Doctor." Lisa told him dryly and he huffed but made his way to the elevator and took the car to the third floor.

He strolled into Kate Beckett's room expecting her to be lying unconscious in her hospital bed, as she always was. He nearly dropped the clipboard in his hands when he saw the woman who had been comatose for almost two full years sitting up with the help of the nursing attendant, eyes opened but flooded with tears and raging with distress.

"Kate?" he said softly, rushing to her side and subtly assessing her vitals. "Are you in pain?"

"No," she rasped, her voice gravelly and raw from the years of disuse. "No one will tell me what's going on. Where am I?"

Rick glanced up to see the young nursing home attendant from earlier in the day staring back at him in bewilderment.

"I just came in to check her G-Tube and vital signs a few minutes ago, sir, like I do every night. She was awake – sort of – and mumbling when I walked in so I asked Lisa to get you, you know, since I saw you checking on her earlier," the male nursing attendant, who he was pretty sure was still just an intern, explained hastily with his hands raised in a gesture of innocence.

Rick turned his attention back to Kate and motioned with a flick of his wrist for one of the nearby nurses crowding in the hall to come over while he spoke to his patient. "You're in the hospital," he said calmly. "Can you tell me what you remember last?"

She furrowed her brow and momentarily closed her eyes.

"I…I was going to meet my boyfriend for dinner, I think? My mom was with me and it was snowing, raining, something - but I drove. Was there...were we in an accident?" she breathed, peeling her eyes open with a great amount of effort to look at him.

Rick hesitated, but nodded solemnly. "I wasn't your doctor at the time, but as far as I know, you were in a car crash. You didn't suffer any severe injuries aside from the blow to your head, but you've been out for a while."

"Define _a while_," she slurred, begging for details with bleary eyes.

"Let me get in touch with the doctor who originally treated you, and then we'll discuss what happened."

She seemed reluctant, but used all the effort she had to nod.

"Get Lisa to do a general checkup on her," he instructed the intern still lingering in the room. "I'm going to find her neurologist and whoever else that's worked with her. Do _not _mention that she's been dead to the world for almost two years, alright?" he murmured to the nursing attendant once he was in the doorway of Kate's room and out of the patient's earshot.

"You got it, Doc."

* * *

Rick spent the better half of an hour trying to get ahold of her neurologist, Doctor Salazar, on his cell, but when he continued to receive no answer, he pulled up Kate's file on his laptop, assessing every detail of her accident, and cringing the more he read.

The other vehicle – a Range Rover that had crashed into Kate and her mother at a high speed – had been suspiciously empty when officers arrived at the scene of the wreck. The SUV had plowed into the passenger side of Kate Beckett's police cruiser-

His eyebrows momentarily quirked at that; she was a cop?

Her mother, Johanna Beckett, had been a DOA and Kate had been found bloodied and battered in the driver's seat, but with a pulse, and was quickly taken to the nearest hospital. According to her records, Kate had suffered severe brain swelling – what the doctors at the time assumed had sent her into the coma – but even after the swelling receded, Kate had never woken up.

She had scored a five on the Glasgow Coma Scale, indicating she was highly unlikely to ever wake up again, but Jim Beckett – her father, he assumed – still paid monthly to keep her on life support and cared for in the nursing home. And now…now she was awake.

He needed to call Jim Beckett.

Rick buried his face in his hands and scrubbed at his jaw in thought. He knew it wouldn't be easy for her – waking up from a coma was easy for no one – and he didn't look forward to watching her struggle. But he couldn't ignore the wave of gratitude he felt rippling through him.

There had been a part of him that had hoped when he saw her again that some miracle would occur, that she would be one of those remarkable success stories. He had never expected his feeble wish to come true. It gave him hope that maybe the universe didn't hate him as much as he thought.

* * *

When he returned to her room, Kate was alone once again, surrounded only by machines and darkness and allowing tears to free fall their way down her concave cheeks. Her eyes took longer than he would have liked to find him, but when they did, her fingers twitched and he instinctively quickened his step.

"Can you call my mom?" she asked in a gravelly whisper - still all she could manage. "Please, Doctor."

Rick hesitated, knowing it was too soon to tell her the truth, but hating the idea of lying to her when her world was already so upside down as it was.

"We're working on that," he attempted to assure her, but her fingers curled into loose fists.

"No one will tell me what's going on and I'm sick of it," she said, her voice quiet and gasping, but insistent. "Give me-" She had to pause, not enough air in her debilitated lungs to talk for long. He offered her the water from the small plastic cup on the bedside table, but she ignored him, concentrating on her breathing and her words. "Give me the truth."

He sighed and sat down carefully beside her hip.

"Almost two years ago, you were in a car crash," he began grimly. "The weather was bad and another car lost control. You were unconscious when the ambulance arrived at the scene and you have been ever since."

She swallowed but held his gaze.

"And my mom? Where's my mom?"

"Kate-"

"_Please._"

"She didn't make it," he blurted the truth, allowing the words to slip from his mouth before he could stop them, and he immediately saw the pain overtaking her beautifully broken face.

"No," she whispered, staring back at him in horror. "You're lying."

"I'm so sorry, Kate. The other car hit her side and she…she died instantly."

Kate forced her sluggish body to turn on its side, wincing through the movement but curling in on herself as a harsh sob wracked her trembling frame. Rick carefully put a hand on her knee, but her weak fingers brushed him away.

He watched her suck in a deep breath, and then another, and bite down hard on her quivering lip - her eyes closed and her brow furrowed as if she was willing herself to gather whatever strength she had left - and then she asked him about the other driver involved.

"I'm not sure. When officers arrived on the scene, the other car was devastated but empty."

The news made her glistening eyes open and fall to the floor in thought.

"And I've been…asleep? For two years?"

"It would be two years later this month," he confirmed, but she didn't say anything else, just stared down blankly at her bent knees. "But your speech and communication skills are good. A lot of coma patients lose them," he told her encouragingly, even though nothing he could say would ease the pain of the loss he had delivered. "We'll move you to the recovery wing of the hospital in a few days if you seem up to it, from then on, physical therapy will be your main activity."

She still said nothing, but Rick kept on babbling facts in hopes of breaking her out of the numbed look of indifference he had caused.

"You'll also see a psychologist tomorrow and probably for the rest of your stay here."

"Why do I need a psychologist?" she muttered, working hard to squeeze her fingers around the stress ball gripped in her hand. The nurses had given it to her to practice with, but her fingers didn't make a dent in the foam material.

"Mainly to assess your mental state. I'm sure they'll also want to determine if you suffered any type of memory loss, short or long term."

She sniffed, squared her jaw even though he could tell it required a lot of effort. "Do I have a brain injury?"

"Not as far as I can tell, not visibly, but we're still running tests to determine why you remained in the coma for so long and what caused you to suddenly wake up."

She did her best to nod, but her eyes welled with tears again and he handed her a tissue, wiped her cheeks for her when her fingers shook too hard to curl around the napkin.

"You're going to be okay, Kate."

"You can't say that," she whispered. "Don't say it if you can't be sure."

"You should sleep," he announced softly, beginning to ease up from her hospital bed, but she managed to snag the sleeve of his coat.

"I…what if I go back under?" she rasped, glancing to him with hidden terror in her eyes. "What if I don't wake up again?"

He pursed his lips and she surprisingly let him brush the errant hair from her face like he'd always wanted to.

"I can't promise you it's not a possibility, but I'll keep an eye on you throughout the night, and wake you every few hours." he assured her. It was all he could do.

She nodded and swallowed thickly.

"Will you stay?" she asked quietly, keeping her gaze on anything but him. "Just for a little while?"

He didn't know this woman, not really, but he could see that dependence was not something she embraced.

"Of course. I had planned to anyway."

She smiled at him, a small, weary thing, but the first real attempt at a smile he had seen from her, and he ignored the small stumble his heart took because of it. He didn't - he _wouldn't_ - allow himself to see her in that way. It wasn't allowed anyway. She was his patient.


	3. Chapter 3

"Morning, Kate." Doctor Rodgers greeted her the next day with a smile, but Kate didn't have the energy to muster a returning lift of her lips. Her morning had consisted of being hand fed applesauce, forcing it to stay down by sheer force of will, and making her best attempt at using a toothbrush. She hadn't accomplished much. She didn't really see a reason to be smiling.

It hadn't felt real at first, when he had told her that her mother was dead, that her life had been put on pause for nearly two whole years. But now…now she was starting to believe him. She didn't want to, but the shocking weakness of her body was proof in itself. This was actually her life now.

And she hated it.

"There's someone here to see you."

She allowed him her attention at that and when he stepped aside and she saw who that someone was, the tears welled in her eyes without her consent. She was flooded with overwhelming relief while Doctor Rodgers helped her into a sitting position, adjusting her hospital bed and placing a few pillows behind her to keep her body propped up.

"Dad," she breathed as her father stepped in the room and came for her.

"Oh, Katie," he croaked, moving to sit at her side and enveloping her in his shaking arms.

She wanted to throw her own arms around her father's neck, cling to him like she did as a little girl, but her arms refused to cooperate, the limbs still feeling like lead, and she had to settle for curling them limply around his waist.

"I never thought you would wake up," he rasped into her hair and she choked on a sob, digging her fingers into his jacket and burying her face in his shoulder, inhaling the familiar scent of cinnamon and spice and what was once home. But underneath those comforting memories was a stench that she had never associated with her father.

Alcohol, _strong_ alcohol.

"I thought I'd lost you both," he murmured into her temple, pulling her from the well of bubbling concern for him and jerking her back to the present.

Both. He had lost them both. Her and her mother. God, she missed her mother.

"No, no, Daddy, I'm here," she promised, lifting her eyes past her dad's shoulder to see Doctor Rodgers watching hesitantly from the doorway, apparently torn between witnessing the tearful reunion and giving them their privacy. But the concern she felt was reflected in her doctor's bright blue eyes and she knew he had caught the odor of scotch on her father as well.

"What does she need to get better?" Jim asked suddenly, drawing back only far enough to glance back to the doctor in the doorway.

"Well, considering everything she's been through, her recovery process thus far is quite impressive," Doctor Rodgers started explaining to her father as he came inside and approached the two Becketts on the bed. "We'll start working on muscle toning today, strengthening her body back up, and eventually move onto more challenging forms of physical therapy. Luckily, her brain and motor skills seem to be intact and visibly undamaged, and she doesn't seem to suffer from any form of amnesia. She knows who she is and what her life was before this. What we have to work on with Ms. Beckett at this point is her physical state since the prolonged bed rest caused her body to grow weak and practically immobile."

"How long will this take?" Kate asked, more indignant than curious, because the last thing she wanted was to be locked up in a hospital room with physical exercises as the only highlight of her days.

She had already wasted so much time – _years_ – and she refused to spend any more of her days in a hospital bed.

"I'm assuming a few weeks, maybe a month at most. As soon as you can do basic tasks on your own, I'll feel safe discharging you."

She almost choked on the breath of air she inhaled too quickly.

"_Weeks_? A _month_?"

"Katie," her father chided quietly, stroking an unsteady hand through her long, oily hair. "Don't worry, I'll come by every day."

"Will you call everyone for me too?" she asked quietly, trying to rein in the hopefulness threatening to leak into her voice. "Tell them I'm…alive again?"

"Of course. As soon as I get home, I'll call everyone we know, okay?"

She nodded and leaned into his embrace once more, squeezing him as tightly as her disobedient arms could manage.

"Thanks, Dad. And will you – can you – maybe just-" Jim looked down at her, waiting patiently for her to struggle through her sentence, but even now, she could see his eyes were hazy. Her father was probably about as well off as she was at this point. Kate did her best to take a deep breath, but she wasn't sure it was her current state of frailty that was making her question so hard to ask. "Could you try to cut back on the drinking?" she finished with a small voice that resembled one of her childhood self.

Jim appeared slightly taken aback by the request and stared down at her with shame and apology bubbling up in his eyes.

"Still one hell of a detective, Katie," he sighed sadly.

"Dad," she pressed, holding weakly to her father's jacket when he began to move away.

"I will," he assured her. "For you, Kate, I'll fix this."

Her stupidly unstable emotions made the smile she gave him turn watery and his matched when he leant down to kiss her forehead before promising he would be back tomorrow morning and then shuffling towards Doctor Rodgers.

Kate slowly lowered herself back down to the bed once she was sure her father and her doctor were no longer lingering in the doorway. She had quickly noticed she grew exhausted easily now, within minutes apparently, and the short reunion with her father had sucked every ounce of energy from her tired body. Not that she had much to begin with.

"Hey,"

She cracked an eye open – when had she even closed them? – to see Doctor Rodgers returning to her room.

"You okay?"

She shook her head.

"You could tell too, couldn't you?"

He pursed his lips but nodded solemnly.

"He lost his wife, and he was sure he'd lost his daughter too. At least now he has a reason to get better."

Her teeth sank into her bottom lip. As he had confirmed, her memory was still intact, and she had seen plenty of alcoholics during her days as a cop. It was not an easy habit to kick.

"So," Her doctor said suddenly, taking the seat beside her bed as he had the night before and eyeing her eagerly. "Detective, huh?"

She rolled her eyes and turned on her side, away from him.

"Go away, I need a nap."

"_Fine_," he sighed dramatically and she listened to him pop back up and hover over her for a brief moment. "We'll talk about it in a couple of hours when I come back to test your muscle tone."

"I can't wait," she muttered, hiding a smirk when he patted her back before trotting out of the room and allowing her to drift back to sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

"Just try to keep your grip on my hands strong, okay? Keep your arms straight-"

Kate pursed her lips in frustration as her hands dropped into her lap once more.

"You're getting better," Rick told her lightly, but Kate was discernibly frustrated with herself.

It had only been five days since she had awoken from the coma and she was still having trouble moving her own body without assistance. And she wasn't happy about it.

"I used to go for six mile runs on my days off," she muttered, crossing her trembling arms over her chest, clutching at the sleeves of her hospital gown to keep them in place. "I had a pull up bar in my living room, I could chase down suspects _in heels_. Now I can't even lift my damn arms."

"You'll be able to exercise normally again, it's just going to take some time," Rick said, squeezing her shoulder encouragingly, but she shrugged him off.

"I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm not a patient person," she retorted dryly.

As if he didn't know _that_ all too well by now.

It was the middle of the day and his session with Kate was taking a little longer than he had intended - he was going to be late to perform surgery on another patient - but he refused to rush her.

"Let's try your legs one more time."

Kate grit her teeth but nodded as she curled her fingers around the edge of the mattress and forced the limb upwards. When her muscles began to quiver after a few seconds, he touched her knee and eased her leg back down, repeating the action with the other.

"This sucks," she muttered, glaring down at her bare knees as the useless legs dangled off the side of the hospital bed.

"Do they hurt?" he asked, just to be sure, but she shook her head.

"No, they just ache a bit."

He slid his palm along her calf and she grimaced.

"Pain?"

She ducked her head to hide what appeared to be a blush.

"No, I haven't been able to shave for a while."

Rick chuckled, amused to see her concerned over something other than her physical weaknesses, something normal.

"Leg hair won't change my opinion of you," he assured her with a smile while he tenderly kneaded the skin of her calf muscle. He performed the same action on her other leg and squeezed both of her socked feet before asking her to flex her toes.

"This is only temporary, you know that. Your body's been in hibernation for close to two years, Kate. Did you expect to just hop out of bed?"

She glared at him, one of her legs twitching, undoubtedly indicating that she wished to kick him.

"At least you're awake and sharing those beautiful eyes of yours with the world," he added, straightening up and plucking the white lab coat from the chair he'd laid it across when he had come in an hour earlier.

She quirked her eyebrows at the compliment, flattered but teasing like he knew she would be. He wanted to flatter her. After all she had been through, he wanted to do anything he could to make her feel better about herself.

"You like my eyes?" she questioned with a grin.

"Among other things."

A startled laugh tumbled from her lips.

As she regained full use of her voice again and lost the raspy soreness that had accompanied her speaking in the first few days, their day-to-day chats had effortlessly developed into flirty banter. Seeing her had unintentionally become the highlight of his days and making her smile had become a daily mission.

"Wow, Rodgers. That was terrible."

"But it made you laugh," He pointed his pen at her upturned lips. "And feel free to call me Rick. Just not in front of the nurses."

She frowned suddenly, and he instantly feared he'd already managed to cross a line with her. He should have known he eventually would, he was always skirting along the edge of it and he could be such an idiot sometimes-

"Rick," she echoed his name and lifted narrowed eyes to examine him suspiciously. "I knew you."

Oh…oh no. He needed to go before-

"Listen, Kate, I have a patient I have to see-"

"The subway," she whispered with clarity bringing out the gold in her eyes. "That's where I know you from. You were always on my train."

He nodded, keeping his eyes down and on his clipboard.

"Yes, now that we have that settled-"

"No, no," she shushed him with an unsteady finger lifting in the air. "There was more. We…we went out?"

"No, we didn't," he huffed, giving up on any chance he had at avoiding this conversation and setting the clipboard down on her bed. "We shared a drink at a bar one night by happenstance. Yes, I knew you from the subway, so when you came into The Old Haunt over two years ago, looking upset, I bought you a drink and we talked. That was it."

She arched a skeptical eyebrow at him and tilted her head questioningly.

"Why can't I remember that as clearly?" she mumbled, eyebrows drawing together in thought as she chewed on her lower lip. "I can only recall talking to you in a booth and then the cab ride home…"

"You drank a lot that night, Kate."

"Mmm, must have been a bad case if I went to the bar."

"You mentioned something about being trapped in a freezer…?"

The mere mention of the old case made an involuntarily shiver travel down her spine and she rubbed at her temple as the memory seemed to return with sharpening clarity.

"Yeah, that was a bad one. We just talked?"

He nodded, the memory of sharing a booth and beer with her in the dim lighting of his favorite bar still crystal clear in his mind.

"I recognized you when you walked in, sent you a drink, and then you came over from the bar and sat with me for about an hour. Called you a cab when you started to actually laugh at my jokes."

She lowered her gaze, biting her lip to subdue the embarrassed twist of her mouth.

He had been writing, working on what would be the second to last Derrick Storm novel when he saw her come in, shivering from the bite of the winter winds outside, and going straight for the bar. She had seemed unsatisfied with the cheap glass of vodka placed in front of her, so he had ordered her a shot of his favorite whiskey. She must have asked who sent the drink, because the bartender pointed him out and next thing he knew, she was striding over to him, standing in front of his table and stating bluntly that she had a boyfriend. He'd nodded his understanding, even mentioning how they rode the same subway route and he had noticed her with another man before. Apparently, he had shown her his intentions were pure, or she had finally decided to give in to the need to actually talk to someone, because had she plopped down across from him.

They'd started talking, he'd ordered them both two more rounds of beers, and then he'd called her a cab. She hadn't been drunk, not necessarily. She had still been aware, just buzzed, but she had looked exhausted and he hadn't felt comfortable leaving her there to drink away her problems. He'd walked her out to the yellow cab idling on the street for her, and she had kissed his cheek, lingered there too long with her lips to his skin, like she had wanted to do more but caught herself before she could, and when she jerked back, he could see the shuttering restraint in her eyes, suppressing everything else, and she had slid into the cab, throwing a mumbled 'thank you' to him before she shut the door. And that was the last he had seen of Kate Beckett. That is, until she had been wheeled into his hospital seven days ago.

He still wondered what would have happened if he had seen her again, maybe on the subway. Maybe he would have approached her for once, flirted with her like he did so regularly now. Maybe she would have become his.

Kate hummed thoughtfully before looking back to him in askance.

"But if that's all that happened between us, why were you so flustered and trying to change the subject?"

"Because if it was revealed that I previously knew you, I would not be allowed to treat you. Of course, if you don't feel comfortable with me as your physician for that reason, you're free to say so and I'll assign someone new."

He drew his eyes down to the floor after that, not wanting to watch if she chose to reject him.

"Don't be so melodramatic," she chuckled. "From what I can remember, I like you."

"I appreciate that," he replied, glancing back up to her with a soft smile despite how she quickly looked away. "Well, I have a surgery to perform. I'll be back to check on you before I leave tonight."

She nodded and murmured her thanks when he helped her ease her legs back onto the cot and draped the blanket across her waist.

"Until tonight, Detective."

"Don't think calling me that is going to get you the story," she retorted as he walked backwards towards the door with a smug grin on his face.

"Oh, I'll get your story. You'll notice I'm a very persistent person."

"I've already taken notice of that, _Rick_," she smirked, dismissively waving her hand at the door. "Now hurry up and go save more lives."


	5. Chapter 5

There were two visitors at her bedside when Rick returned to her room a few hours later; a tall, Hispanic man who turned to him with a fierce protectiveness in his piercing gaze, and a smaller, kinder looking guy with happy blue eyes and a smile as he looked between Kate and the doctor.

"Oh, guys, this is my doctor, Richard Rodgers," she introduced him with a broad smile and his lips quirked at the sight. She looked the happiest he had seen her all week. "Rick, these are my boys from the precinct, Ryan and Esposito."

The friendlier of the two, Ryan, stepped forward and shook his hand enthusiastically. Esposito merely nodded at him from his place at the head of her bed.

"We couldn't believe it when we got the call from Beckett's dad saying she was awake and ready for visitors," Ryan said happily, looking back at Kate with a fondness that Rick didn't perceive as romantic, but sibling-like.

"It's too bad you weren't here sooner, you missed Lanie," Kate informed him while he cautiously came towards the trio.

"Lanie?"

Kate nodded. "My best friend."

"Yeah, she cried all over Beckett for at least five minutes," Esposito chimed in with an amused smirk that Kate glared at him for.

"Did your dad stop by too?" Rick asked and felt his heart clench when Kate's eyes lowered.

"No, not today."

Jim hadn't been back since the first morning he'd stopped by. He had called a couple of times, but what they had both heard on the phone hadn't sounded too promising.

"Maybe he'll be by tomorrow," Ryan suggested hopefully and he watched Kate muster up a smile for the man at her side.

"Yeah, maybe."

Esposito's cell began vibrating loudly in his pocket and he scowled as he pulled out the device and saw the number flashing across the screen.

"Body?" Kate assumed and the boys nodded in unison.

"We'll come back as soon as we can, Beckett," Esposito told her solemnly, leaning in to gently hug her.

Kate appeared surprised by the sudden act of affection, but embraced him firmly, doing the same when Ryan mimicked the action.

"Good luck with the case," she called as they headed towards the door. As Ryan went ahead though, Esposito slowed his pace, stopping long enough to momentarily speak with Rick.

"We're counting on you to get her back to perfect health," Esposito muttered, clapping him roughly on the shoulder. "Don't let us down, Doc."

"I'll do my best," he agreed when Esposito released him and continued towards the exit. Rick waited until he was sure the two detectives were out of sight before rubbing at the juncture between his shoulder and his neck where Esposito's hand had come down.

"Well, he's protective."

"At least Ryan seems to like you."

She was laughing at him as he scoffed and came around to her bedside, plopping down next to her bent knees.

"Opening a flower store?"

She grinned, her eyes roving fondly over the multitude of colorful bouquets that consumed nearly every flat surface in her room.

"Most are from the precinct, then those two and Lanie brought their own bundles. It's sweet."

"I'll have to stop by a shop on my way home. I'd hate to not contribute."

Kate bumped his elbow with her knee. "You contribute enough."

He had many ideas of how he could contribute even more-

No, he had to stop thinking like that.

"How was PT?"

She groaned and dropped her head to the pillow behind her.

"It was hell, like always."

"Three hours a day with Patrick too much for you?" he teased, knowing she would never admit to being pushed too hard, even if it was the truth.

"I can't wait to be back to normal so I can kick Patrick's ass," she grumbled and he couldn't help laughing, because yeah, Patrick the physical therapist could be a jerk sometimes and if anyone was going to kick his ass, he would be perfectly happy if it was Kate Beckett.

"Otherwise, are you doing okay?"

Her eyes opened and hesitantly met his; he already knew what she was going to say.

"I'm worried about my dad."

"I tried to get ahold of him today, Kate, but he isn't answering. If you want me to, I can go down there, check on him myself-"

"No, I'm not going to make you do that," she said adamantly, but it was too late, his mind was set now. He would look up Jim Beckett's address if she wouldn't give it to him and he would go help her father, help them both.

"Rick," She curled her hand around his wrist, closing her fingers around the bone with surprising firmness and forcefully stealing his attention back. "I'm telling you _no_."

"I heard you. Don't worry."

She gnawed on her lower lip, a signature habit that told him she was contemplating whether or not it was safe to believe him, so he quickly took his chance to change the subject.

"So are you finally going to tell me about your exciting life as an NYPD detective?"

Kate narrowed her eyes at him, completely aware of what he was attempting to do, but apparently decided to let him off the hook and continue on into the topic of her work life.

"What are you so eager to know about?"

He shrugged. "Whatever you want to tell me. Being a cop sounds like an incredible job."

"It has its moments," she nodded, her eyes going just slightly out of focus as her mind seemed to wander. "Definitely had a rewarding quality that made it worth it."

"What department did you work?"

"Homicide."

He could feel his entire face lighting up with giddy intrigue, causing hers to scrunch in confusion.

"Why do you look so excited? That usually sends most men running."

"Are you kidding? Your job has to be the coolest. I always wanted to shadow someone like you for-" Rick immediately shut his mouth, momentary panic spreading through his bones at the brief slip and almost full spill of his greatest secret. He liked Kate, a lot, and he trusted her too, but she couldn't know. No one could know.

"Rick?" she called curiously. "Shadow me for what?"

"Oh, I meant – just in general, you know? To see what it's like."

She still wore a bemused expression, a hint of suspicion lurking in the lines of her face, and he really had to be more careful. She was a detective, after all; she wouldn't need much to figure him out.

She nodded skeptically, despite how clear it was that she didn't believe him. "Yeah, well, it's not like it is in the movies."

"That's exactly why I wish I could follow you around."

"Maybe - once that's physically possible - you can."

"Really?"

"If Captain Montgomery agrees to it. We've had a few ride alongs in the past."

"You're the best patient ever."

She shook her head, amusement evident in the playful quirk of her lips, and he felt something like dread swirling in the pit of his stomach at the way his heart swelled with joy to see her smile. It had only been a week, but he was already so attached…

"So, tell me about you," she mused with an attempt at a grin, closing her eyes and turning over slowly to rest on her side.

Realizing he was likely going to be there longer than he'd intended, Rick transferred from her mattress to settle in the uncomfortable chair next to her bed that he was growing all too familiar with and smirked at her request.

"What could you possibly want to know?" he inquired jokingly, but his palms were beginning to sweat with apprehension.

"Your story," she supplied simply. "You want to know mine, I want to know yours. Tit for tat."

He considered her for a moment, the gorgeous woman who had been in a coma for nearly two years but was suddenly very much awake and asking about his life like she actually cared.

"And you know you can't say no to me. I'm your favorite patient," she pointed out cheekily, cracking an eye open and breathing out a laugh when she saw his raised brow.

"Quite the assumption there, Detective Beckett."

"C'mon, Rick," she pressed while she squeezed her frail fingers around one of his and - when exactly had his hand become entwined with hers?

He sighed and propped an elbow on her bed as he spoke.

"Well, I'm a native New Yorker, born to a single mother slash Broadway star."

"A Broadway star, huh?"

"Yep, the great Martha Rodgers."

Her eyes lit up, turning a luminous shade of green.

"Oh, my mom loved her," she said with a sad, reminiscent smile.

"Tell me about her," he replied softly, careful to venture into the topic of her deceased mother, especially while the pain was still fresh. "Tell me about your mom."

She was understandably reluctant, but Kate carefully propped herself up on an elbow – one of her newest accomplishments – and began describing her mother, sharing memories and smiling fondly as she went along, and he quickly found himself smiling too, the love and admiration in her words infectious. Somehow they ended up circling back to talk of careers, how she had followed the same path as her mother into law, originally intending to become the first female Chief Justice, but going in a slightly different direction at the last second and becoming a detective instead.

"Our cases rarely crossed, but with her being a pretty infamous defense attorney, we butted heads sometimes. It was always interesting," she chuckled.

"It sounds like you both enjoyed your work," he observed quietly.

"You think I'll be able to go back?" she asked, turning those hopeful hazel eyes on him. "To the NYPD?"

"I think so. Of course, you know you have to get through this first, and then I'm sure you'll have to contact your captain, iron out all the details. Otherwise, I don't see why not."

"Montgomery will let me come back," she sighed out with relief. "Maybe I'll even get to work with Ryan and Espo again."

"Your team?" he surmised and she nodded, her eyes resting contently on their tangled fingers and the way he was stroking her knuckles with his thumb.

"The guys who came by earlier. They're like brothers to me."

She yawned and he decided he should probably leave her. It was getting late and they both knew she needed her rest, but as if sensing his intent to go, she spoke before he could.

"Rick?"

"Hmm?"

"What about you? Why'd you become a doctor?" she questioned, effectively sabotaging his plan to move towards the door.

"The money," he answered with a shrug, but she narrowed her gaze on him, silently demanding the truth.

He wondered if this was how she forced people to talk in interrogations.

Rick gently extricated his hand from hers and clasped them together in his lap. She had just given him a handful of pieces to her past, pieces of her story like he had always wanted, and he knew she deserved the same from him. But he had never shared this part of his story before, not with anyone. He wasn't sure he could.

"When I was in college, I got a girl pregnant," he began solemnly, his voice so low he wasn't positive she could hear, but when he looked over, she was staring back at him intently, so he continued. "We got married, and she had the baby a few months later. My daughter was beautiful, and I loved her more than anything else in the world." Rick smiled down at his hands, picturing his perfect little pumpkin in the way he liked to remember her. "But then… then Alexis got sick, and it all happened so fast. The cancer spread and she was gone before her first birthday."

"Rick," she whispered his name, but he didn't look up at her – he couldn't, not until the stinging in his eyes subsided.

"I couldn't go into cancer treatment, it would have been too painful, but I wanted to do something that would help people. So I applied to med school, divorced Meredith, and I've been working in the ER for almost ten years."

An uncomfortable silence engulfed them for a few minutes, but he had needed the time to regain his composure to meet her gaze again.

"What would you have done otherwise?" she inquired softly, watching him with gentle eyes that were alight with the small, golden flecks of intrigue.

Rick sat back and thought about that for a moment, mainly for her benefit because he already knew the answer, had always known.

"I suppose I would write if I could."

"Books?" she murmured, her eyes slowly sliding towards her bedside table, where a few novels from his home had taken new residence. He wanted her to have something to occupy her time during the day when she wasn't working on her recovery, so he had brought her books.

"Preferably."

"You've never done any writing of your own? You know, outside of work?"

"I've dabbled a little here and there, nothing special," he hedged and even through her drowsy state, he knew she could sense the almost awkward quality of his voice.

"You'll have to let me read your work sometime. I'll give you some honest critique."

She was teasing him if the tired quirk of her lips was any indication, and he smiled back even while her eyes slipped closed.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Kate."

But she was already asleep.


	6. Chapter 6

Rick had an hour before he needed to be at the hospital for his shift, so he had an hour to find out how bad of shape Jim Beckett was really in. Of course he hadn't told Kate, but it had still been fairly easy to find her father's address in the database. The place he ended up at wasn't the brownstone Kate had described when they'd talked about her mother the night before, but he had figured Jim would have moved from the family home. He couldn't imagine the older man willingly staying in the empty space his wife and daughter had once occupied.

"Mr. Beckett," he called while knocking firmly on the apartment door.

When he received no answer, he tried again, but after three attempts, he was ready to turn away, just try again tomorrow, but then he heard the shuffling of footsteps.

Rick prepared for the worst, expecting to see her father drunken and incoherent, but when the door swung open, Jim Beckett looked…sober. Tired, but sober.

"Doctor Rodgers?" He appraised him with confusion as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, but the presence of Rick at his doorstep suddenly had his body going rigid with fear. "What is it? Did something happen to Katie? Is she-"

"No, no, Mr. Beckett, I'm so sorry. Kate's fine, I just - I came over to see if you were too."

"Ah," Jim nodded slowly, understanding steadily creeping into his eyes. "Would you like to come in?"

"If you don't mind?"

"Well, I would have minded less after six in the morning, but you're here so let me start a pot of coffee and we'll talk."

Rick nodded appreciatively as Jim led him inside the small, one bedroom apartment. The white walls were mostly bare, no pictures or artwork, and there were only a few pieces of furniture – a couch in the living room area, along with a chair and a coffee table as the centerpiece – scattered throughout the space, but otherwise, the place had no warmth, no personal touch. Purposely blank.

"I didn't mean to disappoint her," Jim said, interrupting Rick's visual assessment of his home and shuffling in from the tiny kitchen with two mugs, handing one to Rick. "I want to be there for her, but I needed some time."

Jim continued towards the couch, easing down onto one of the three worn cushions and glancing over his shoulder expectantly at Rick, who abruptly stepped forward, causing his coffee to slosh over the rim of his cup and onto the web of skin between his thumb and forefinger. He hissed quietly and sucked on the burned skin while he vigilantly maneuvered his way to the sofa.

"I don't mean to be rude, sir, but I thought you'd be at the hospital every day now that Kate's awake."

Jim sighed, taking a sip of his coffee before leaning forward to set it down on the wooden table a few feet in front of them.

"I want to be, but I had to get better first. I realize you both noticed how bad it was when I was there last week."

Rick diverted his eyes down to the black liquid in his mug.

"After the accident, after I buried Johanna and moved Katie into the nursing home, I took up the habit of drinking. It wasn't serious at first, just a few fingers of scotch every night, something to ease the ache," Jim had to look away and Rick shifted uncomfortably on the couch, unsure suddenly if coming here had been such a good idea. "I don't even know when it became an addiction, but it's consumed my life for the last year and a half and I'm learning it isn't as easy to quit as I had hoped. I started going to AA a few days ago, got rid of all the alcohol, but I'm still…I still struggle."

"Withdrawals are hard," Rick murmured quietly, having seen the effect of the same addiction on many patients in the past.

"Very. The last few days have been hell," Jim huffed, scraping a hand through his salt and pepper colored hair. "I want to be completely recovered when I see her, because the look on her face when she smelled it on me that very first day…I hated myself for causing that, for giving her something besides herself to worry about."

Rick remembered that look well, had it ingrained into his memory, and he'd hated it too, even resented the man on the couch beside him at the time for eliciting that expression of concern from Kate when she was still so weak and vulnerable.

"I think you're doing the right thing, Mr. Beckett."

"Call me Jim." He smiled, a smile that resembled his daughter's and forced Rick to smile back.

"Jim," Rick returned. "Could you possibly tell Kate this? Maybe during one of your phone calls? I think it would help her get through her recovery a little easier."

He hesitated, but Jim eventually nodded. "If it will help. I just - didn't want to get her hopes up, just in case…"

"If you ever feel like giving in, Mr. Be- Jim_,_ you can always call me," Rick said, retrieving one of the business cards he always left in his coat pocket and digging out a pen as well, scribbling his personal cell number on the back. "From my experience, I've noticed it helps to talk, takes your mind off the thing you want to do."

He handed the card to Jim and saw the gratitude bloom across his features, even as he tried to subdue it.

"Thank you, Doctor Rodgers."

"Rick, you can call me Rick."

"Rick," he amended. "Thanks for looking after my daughter."

"Of course, it's my job."

Jim gave him a sly look, his eyes alight with something Rick couldn't quite understand, but his watch beeped and he couldn't spend the time needed to decipher it.

"I'm sorry, Jim, but my shift starts soon."

"Not a problem, son," Jim said, rising from the couch to show him out. "Feel free to drop by whenever you like, but try calling first next time?"

"Yes, sir. My next visit will be at a more reasonable hour," Rick promised once he was standing in the hallway again.

"I'm hoping your next visit will be under different circumstances."

"I'm pretty confident it will be," Rick said with conviction.

He was quickly learning the Beckett's were strong people. It wouldn't be easy for either of them, but he had faith both father and daughter would overcome their weaknesses. They had to.

* * *

Rick barely made it on time that morning after his detour to Jim Beckett's and wasn't able to stop by Kate's room like he usually would before a shift, but he made it to see her during his lunch break, though she hardly seemed up for company.

"Hey, Kate," he greeted with a smile he reserved only for her, but she kept her gaze trained on the open window.

With a furrowed brow, Rick moved to her bedside, reached for her hands to test her grip like he always did when he came to see her. She mechanically lifted them, placed her palms to his, but the numbed look of indifference remained on her pale face.

"Hey," Rick tried again, squeezing her fingers lightly, but she wouldn't squeeze back. "What's the matter? You're usually much more vocal during my check ins."

"What do you want me to say, Doctor?" she sighed, withdrawing her hands from his and dropping them back to her lap.

He was confused by her behavior, but cautiously took his usual seat on the bed beside her hip.

"I wouldn't mind if you started by telling me what's wrong."

She turned her head and scowled at him.

"What _isn't _wrong?"

He waited patiently, knowing he would have to tread lightly here, and watched her stubborn resolve slowly weaken until finally she relented and told him the source of her frustration.

"I talked to my boyfriend today."

"Oh?" he said, shifting uncomfortably because he could still remember her boyfriend and he couldn't say he had ever been too fond of the guy.

"He's married."

Shit.

"Kate, I'm-"

"I also tried calling my dad, but he won't answer me. Or anyone else apparently. I thought – I thought me waking up would have helped, not make him worse," she added with a self-deprecating little chuckle that he could tell she used to hold back the tears building in her eyes and clogging her throat.

He bit his tongue to hold back the truth about her father, wishing he could tell her and put her mind at ease, but he knew it wasn't his place. Jim had to be the one to fix that.

"I don't know what to do anymore."

Words - something he was actually good with – refused to come, but he already knew she didn't want them. They wouldn't help, they wouldn't fix the relationship she was in two years ago, they wouldn't bring back her mother or help her father, and so he settled for resting his hand on her knee and squeezing in a gesture of comfort.

He realized too late that the physical contact was just what she needed to push the tears over the edge.

"Two years," she whispered through trembling lips. "Nearly two years and _everything _in my life has changed. Everyone's gone."

The tears were multiplying and her fingers shook as she slowly lifted her hands to cover her eyes, and Rick wasn't sure what to do. His instincts urged for him to touch her, to hold her, but he didn't want to do anything inappropriate or upset her further and-

"I just wish I had my mom," she whimpered from behind her hands, her fragile spine bowing while she hunched forward and Rick moved closer, encircled her upper body in his arms and gently pulled her into his chest, letting her hide her face in his shirt.

He wanted to tell her how he was so selfishly glad she had woken up, how especially happy he was that she had woken with him as her doctor, but he was no one compared to the people she was currently mourning. It didn't matter how grateful he was to have her awake and alive and in his arms, because he didn't matter, not to her.

The practicality of his thinking stung, but it helped his reasonable side - the trained doctor within - kick in.

"It's going to be okay, Kate," he soothed into her hair, combing his fingers through the lengthy chestnut locks, down her delicately heaving back. "I promise you it'll get better. It's just going to take some time."

Her short nails dug into his lower back, her grip on him too weak to cause any sort of discomfort, and she rested her cheek flat against his collarbone. Her willingness to remain in his embrace surprised him, but he suspected she could use the support of another person despite the bold streak of independence he had seen in her from the day she had opened her eyes again. Everyone needed comfort sometimes, even Kate Beckett.

He held her until the tears dried and her breathing returned to its steady pattern, convinced she had fallen asleep against him after a few minutes, but then she pressed her cold nose to his neck, caused his arms to instinctively tighten around her, and yeah, she was definitely awake.

"I didn't even _love_ Josh, we were never going to last, I just…I feel cheated. I've had no control over anything that's happened to me in the last two years," she confided into the collar of his shirt, her hands fisting in the fabric on his back.

"You're getting the control back though. I know it's frustrating, but you're doing so well, Kate."

She sighed shakily and pulled away, self-consciously rubbing at the salty stains still lingering on her cheeks. "When do you think I can try walking?"

His eyes naturally drifted down to the knees pressed against his hip.

He probably shouldn't, she likely wasn't strong enough yet, but it couldn't hurt to try. If anything, at least it would take her mind off things for just a little while.

"Want to try now?"

Her eyes cut to his, sparking with anticipation, and she nodded a little too eagerly, but patiently waited for him to rise from the bed and instruct her into a sitting position at the edge of the mattress.

"You won't tell Patrick?" he asked jokingly.

She chuckled, but promised him it would be their own little secret, which sent a totally inappropriate shot of delight down his spine.

"Hold onto my hands," he said as he carefully guided her up and off the bed and slowly into a standing position. Her thighs quivered, legs wobbling as she stood on her own with his hands clasped around hers her only support, but she eventually got her limbs to remain steady and glanced up at him with exhilarated determination.

"Slow, Kate," he warned as they tentatively started to shuffle forward, away from her bed and out into the open space of the room. "Good, you've got this."

Her lower lip had become trapped under her teeth in concentration, but it broke free when she smiled at her small steps of progress.

"Doctor Rodgers?"

Rick stilled them at Lisa's voice in the doorway. She didn't sound happy.

"Should Ms. Beckett really be out of bed?"

His gaze flickered back to Kate, who was gritting her teeth, either from annoyance or against the exhaustion potentially creeping in.

"We were just testing the muscle strength in her legs," Rick explained simply, even adding a shrug of his shoulders to convince her. "She's getting stronger."

His head nurse made a disinterested sound of acknowledgement.

"I'm glad, but I just came to let you know Gina's on your line 1."

"Ah."

Great, he couldn't wait to listen to Gina scold him through the phone about the lack of chapters in her inbox.

"I'm sorry, Kate. I'll be back tonight and then maybe we can try this again tomorrow."

She nodded, a little too dully for his liking, but allowed him to help her back to the bed.

"Thanks, Rodgers."

His brow furrowed at the use of his last name from her. It wasn't exactly odd, he assumed it was because Lisa was in the room with them, but it still felt strange to hear her revert back to his surname after so many days of _Rick_.

"Of course." He squeezed her arm before turning away and brushing past Lisa to stride down the hall, knowing all too well it was never a good idea to keep Gina waiting when he was already in trouble.

* * *

"You know Gina's his girlfriend, don't you?" Lisa asked as soon as she assumed Rick was out of earshot and Kate tried not to let her reaction to the news show on her face.

She should have known he already had someone. A handsome, successful doctor like himself, how could he not?

She merely shrugged instead, tried to act nonchalant.

"Do you know when lunch will get here?"

"I saw them loading the trays on my way up, so it should probably be a few minutes. Too bad Richard couldn't stick around and share some delicious hospital food with you."

Kate had never liked Lisa, had always wished her night nurse, Cassandra, could be her day nurse as well. Or really any nurse would do, as long as she no longer had to put up with the moody Lisa Connors, who'd had a very apparent dislike for her since day one.

"Have a good evening, Kate," Lisa tossed over her shoulder as she pivoted on her heel and thankfully exited Kate's room, purposely leaving the door open just because she knew how much it irked Beckett.

Kate propped a few pillows behind her back so she would be able to remain sitting up when the unlucky nurse who was assigned to make lunch rounds brought her what would likely be the same meal as yesterday. She tried to force her concentration to wander, but it continued to gnaw at her that she had been naïve enough to develop feelings for a man who was only in her life because he had to be, because it was his _job_. It made sense, logically - he was the only constant in her life at the moment, the only person who made an effort to see her everyday, but she had turned it into something personal and she knew better than that.

She had just gotten out of a relationship with a doctor - granted it had been while she was unconscious, but inevitable nonetheless - and the last thing she needed to be doing was even fathoming the idea of one with another.

Kate scraped a hand through her hair, wishing her arms would hold long enough for her to pull it back and braid the overgrown mane down her back, and resolutely decided she would work on getting back to her old self - smart, savvy, _independent_ Detective Beckett.


	7. Chapter 7

Kate barely talked to him, hardly even looked at him, when he came by her room later in the evening. She wouldn't meet his eyes and shot down any and all efforts he made at conversation. When he asked her if she wanted him to stay, she shook her head in declination, which surprisingly hurt more than he had been prepared for. But ever the gentleman he tried to be, he accepted her rejection and bowed out, wishing her a good night before he softly shut her door.

He didn't stop by her room again that next morning, or afternoon, decided he would give her space to work through whatever was bothering her, but when she refused to acknowledge him the next night, he took a seat on her bed and unsuccessfully attempted to wait her out.

"I don't like when you're upset," he murmured after fifteen minutes of her obstinately staring at her hands while he silently willed her to meet his eyes. "Especially when you're upset with me."

That got a gentle tug of her lips upwards.

"It's evident that I care about you, Kate." She hesitantly lifted her eyes, allowing him to hold her gaze, finally, but there was unmistakable warmth swimming in the soft pools of amber and green, urging him to continue. "So if there's something wrong, if I did something, you have to tell me. You can't just shut me out."

"You haven't done anything," she sighed quietly, lowering her eyes back to her lap and tenderly taking his hand, trapping it between both of hers. "I just figured – I don't want to interfere with your relationship."

"My…relationship?" he repeated, suddenly very confused.

"With Gina."

He snorted. "Why the hell would I be in a relationship with Gina? How do you even know who Gina is?"

Kate's eyebrows knitted together.

"Lisa told me you two were…" The sentence trailed and her cheeks turned pink with what he assumed was embarrassment over the lie she had been fed.

"Lisa told you I was dating Gina?" he surmised.

She chuckled wryly and nodded as she ran a frustrated hand through her hair. "She really hates me."

"Why?" Rick questioned, concern and a good dose of irritation bubbling in his chest. He knew Lisa had a thing for him, she always had, but he had turned her down. Multiple times. She hadn't appeared crushed by the rejection - she had honestly seemed unfazed by it - but apparently, she wasn't as accepting as he'd originally thought.

"You know why," was all she said in return, but it was enough.

"I'm assigning someone new to work with you. I won't have-"

"No," she protested immediately. "I won't be here much longer and I'm not going to let Lisa think her petty little fits of jealousy bothered me enough to tattle to my doctor. It doesn't even bother me at all."

"It bothered you today," he pointed out, but she stubbornly pursed her lips in response. "You shouldn't have to put up with that kind of unnecessary drama. You have enough to worry about without Lisa coming in here spurting lies about me and my ex."

"So you did date?"

She didn't appear upset over the information – why would she be? – only determined to know the whole story, as always.

Rick sighed, but nodded, making what was likely a stupid decision in that split second.

"You want the truth?"

Her face remained neutral, unreadable, but she arched an eyebrow at him for the question.

"I always want the truth."

"Gina and I did date, years ago, but the only relationship we have now is a working one."

"Gina works in the hospital?"

"No, she's my publisher," he confessed sheepishly, but still her expression gave nothing away.

He could clearly see how she was once a high-ranking detective. He couldn't read her at all, but he was sure she was reading him as easily as one of his own books.

"Your publisher?" she parroted back dubiously.

"I told you I liked to write," he offered as explanation. "But I wanted to be able to keep this job, so I started writing under a different name, a pseudonym. Gina's been my publisher for nearly twenty years."

Rick allowed her a moment to digest the information, noticing the clarity flare subtly but golden in her eyes even as she forced that look of indifference to remain. Gina would kill him for sharing this, even if it wasn't truly revealing. They had worked hard over the years to keep his true identity a secret, which wasn't always easy, and simply allowing Kate to know he had a double life put him in a threatening form of jeopardy. As both Gina and his agent, Paula, always said, the less that knew the truth, the better.

Kate's shoulders loosened a bit though, and the thumping of his heart slowed as she relaxed back into the plethora of pillows behind her.

"And this name would be?"

He grinned. "Nice try."

"I'll figure it out," she warned smugly.

"Maybe. We'll see just how good your skills really are, Detective."

She scoffed at the remark, but still allowed him to briefly slide his hand over hers, effortlessly twine their fingers.

"As long as you keep it a secret if you do find out."

"Don't worry, _when _I find out, I won't be sharing. Now it's getting late and you should go before more rumors spread."

Mockingly affronted, Rick raised his free hand to his chest and stared down at her incredulously. "Do I embarrass you? Are you ashamed to be seen with me now?"

She bit her lip, white teeth pinning the long abused flesh, and shrugged. "My reputation can only handle so much."

"Kate Beckett, you are _mean_."

She laughed and pushed back the hair from her face, and he was struck with an idea. Or more likely a way to stick around longer.

"Want me to braid that before I go?"

"May start rumors of a different kind, Rick."

He grunted a laugh of his own and moved to sit behind her as she reluctantly made room for him. They didn't have a brush, so he finger-combed through the chestnut strands of her hair, watching her head loll forward at the motion.

"How'd you learn to braid women's hair?"

"Internet," he answered, separating hers into three pieces and beginning to attempt a loose but neat braid from the base of her skull.

"Should I ask why?"

"I wanted to know for when Alexis was older."

She went quiet at the personal admission, curling her knees up and resting her chin there.

"You would have been a wonderful father."

It made his chest ache, that familiar yearning he had grown to recognize so well flickering to life again, but he smiled softly to himself.

"Thank you, Kate."

He tugged open the drawer to her bedside table, managed to find an elastic rubber band - not a hairband but close enough - and wrapped it around the tail of the braid.

"There," he announced proudly, smoothing his hand down the plaited tresses. "I'll get back on the internet tonight and next time we can try one of those French kinds."

"Can we do my nails too?"

"Only if you're good."

Something that sounded suspiciously like a giggle fell from her mouth and her eyes were sparkling with mirth when he rose from the bed and came back around.

He must have been staring - part of him in awe of the fact that he could put a look like that on her face - because she huffed and cocked her head towards the door.

"Go, Doctor. Like I said, it's late and the staring's creepy."

He left, only because he knew if he stayed, he'd risk creeping her out for the rest of his visit.

* * *

Kate had instructed he come around her room less, and despite how much he disliked the idea, he followed her rules. He bided his time for her, only stopping by her room once every other day for the next week, bringing her decaffeinated coffee if it was a morning visit, a paperback novel if it was later in the day. Rick could handle seeing her in moderation, as long as his visitation rights weren't permanently revoked.

That Friday night he walked in, proud of himself for following her set of regulations for an entire seven days, but his pride deflated when he saw Kate in her hospital bed with one of his books in her lap, her nose and eyes both red and puffy.

Instinctively, he rushed to her, imploring what was wrong and if she was all right, but she only placed the book on the bedside table and tugged on his arm, wordlessly demanding he join her in the narrow hospital bed. Confused but compliant, Rick hesitantly slid in next to her, and as soon as he did, Kate wrapped her arms around his torso and buried her face in his chest. A steady stream of tears pooled in the fabric of his dark blue dress shirt while he stroked her braided hair and murmured soothing words into her crown as she cried.

He had seen Kate Beckett show emotion far more than she liked, always managing to catch her in a moment of weakness or frustration, but he had never witnessed her weep like this, never with so much pain. He spared a glance over her head and saw the cover of _Storm Fall _glaring back at him. But it still made no sense.

He knew he had purposely made the death of Derrick Storm a tearjerker, but he hadn't expected Kate to be one to shed tears over the deceased fictional character, especially not like this.

"I bring you Nicholas Sparks and you're completely dry eyed. You read Richard Castle and the floodgates open," he murmured jokingly into her temple and smiled victoriously when she huffed a laugh against his clavicle.

The tears had ceased and her breathing had begun to even out, and he distinctly heard her mutter something into his chest about her mother, but she was surrendering to sleep before he could even consider broaching the subject.

Rick sighed and carefully began extracting himself from his dozing patient, selfish disappointment hovering over him because they had been unable to engage in one of their usual chats he enjoyed so much - too much - but Kate suddenly clutched the neck of his collar before he could completely abandon the bed.

"Stay."

"Kate-"

"Just stay," she mumbled and he obeyed her, too loyal and too unwilling to deny any type of request from her. He couldn't mind though, not when Kate Beckett pressed her body snug against his, nuzzled his neck, and draped one of her lithe legs over his thigh.

Rick hesitantly wrapped his arm around her back, rested his hand on her shoulder and his chin atop her head, and repeatedly tried to convince himself that there was nothing wrong or inappropriate about sharing a hospital bed with her, his patient.


	8. Chapter 8

Kate swam into consciousness slowly, the remnants of sleep still laying thick and heavy over her body even as she blinked awake to see Richard Rodgers dozing beside her. She barely remembered him coming to her room the previous night, holding her while she cried over a book series that her mother used to love but had never been able to finish, and allowing her to coerce him into staying the night with a few mumbled pleas.

So much for that blazing independence and self-reliance she had been determined to use against him.

She knew she should be panicking, it should be instinctive for her to be panicking right about now - tensing and jerking her body away from his as quickly as she could and seriously questioning her judgment. But it felt nice to wake up to someone she actually cared about instead of Lisa, who tended to glare at her the entire morning because they both knew the nurse had a crush on Doctor Rodgers and he seemed to have an interest in someone else.

Kate hummed contently to herself and curled further into the warmth of his body, her own mouth betraying her with a smile when the arm around her shoulders reflexively tightened.

Sure enough, her brain did start to riot, pointing out that he was her doctor and this probably broke a few rules. And not only hospital rules, but rules Kate had for herself when it came to relationships, rules that should be even more closely followed now considering the vulnerable state she was in.

Despite the fact that it had only been two weeks, she had started to care about Rick. He'd been a friend to her when she needed one, but she wasn't sure allowing their friendship to grow into something more was a smart choice while she was like this. She still needed time to figure out who she was now after losing her mother and two years of her life. She didn't want to ruin what could possibly be a serious relationship in the future because of bad timing.

She sighed mournfully at that, traced her finger down the steep slope of his nose, down to the soft flesh of his lips, and over the dip of his chin, keeping her touch light so not to wake him.

Maybe he would wait for her.

Rick's feelings for her seemed to be mutual, if not stronger, so if he really wanted her…

"I thought staring was creepy, Beckett," he murmured suddenly, his voice low and raspy and causing her to bite her lip in an attempt to quell the slow spread of heat searing the inside of her abdomen.

"Only when you do it."

He cracked an eye open to see her watching him with her head on his shoulder and her hand splayed over his chest, her thumb toying absentmindedly with the buttons of his dress shirt.

She withdrew her hand, curled it into her chest.

The quiet tranquility that had engulfed her hospital room that early morning had been calming, helpful to her raging mind, but she knew the serene little bubble would burst as soon as he awoke and the reality of their situation set in. She couldn't just _be_ with him like this, it wasn't allowed and it didn't feel completely right. Yet.

"I'm sorry I fell asleep on you," she whispered into the stillness.

Rick reached over with the hand that wasn't smoothing circles over her shoulder and trailed his fingers over the porcelain shell of her ear.

"I don't mind. Feel free to use me for whatever you like, Detective." He smirked, the beautiful line of his mouth evoking the stupid urge to lean forward and find his lips with her own, but instead, Kate carefully lifted from his side and pulled her knees to her chest.

"Are you on call today?"

"Nope," he yawned, sitting up beside her, pretending he couldn't clearly see what she was doing. "I'm off for once, got a lot of writing to do."

It felt awkward, like some weird morning after gone wrong, and she berated herself for being the one to put them in this situation. Because it had never been awkward like this before, not between them. What the hell had possessed her to-

"Kate."

She glanced up and huffed, grinned affectionately despite herself when he knocked his forehead against hers.

"Stop thinking so much."

"What are you going to write about?" she asked instead, letting her forehead remain propped against his, letting him brush a strand of hair behind her ear, and letting the tight coil of anxiety loosen in her stomach.

"Well," he started, pulling back with enthusiasm gleaming in the sapphire blue of his eyes. "I've been pretty inspired by this female detective I've been hanging out with lately so-"

"Oh no."

"Oh yes. I have an outline and the first few chapters already done. I'll work on the first draft for a while, talk it over with Gina, and then maybe when said detective gets her job back, I can start following her around to make the book even more authentic."

She groaned. "Rick, you know it'll probably be months before I'm back on the force, right? And even then, I'll still need some time to get adjusted."

"I can wait."

She swallowed at the note of seriousness in his voice. There was purposely more loaded into that statement than she had been expecting.

She cleared her throat, thoughtlessly pushed a nonexistent piece of hair behind her ear.

"Why don't you go follow Esposito?"

He narrowed his gaze on her. "Do I look like I have a death wish? Besides, Espo would never make a good muse."

She rolled her eyes, secretly grateful he had lightened the mood with a joke at one of her old partners' expense, and began shoving the blanket from her lap.

"Take a walk with me before you go?"

He nodded, rising from the bed and allowing her to do most of the work as she maneuvered herself onto the edge of the cot and slid her feet into the fuzzy pair of slippers he had brought her from the gift shop.

"Do you want to get dressed before we go?"

Kate glanced pensively towards the bathroom, where her two sets of hospital issued t-shirts and sweatpants resided. She could change her own clothing now - a huge accomplishment in her mind - but it was a painstaking process that usually took her at least fifteen minutes and she knew if she went into the bathroom and saw herself in the mirror, the familiar surge of self-consciousness would flare up again.

She didn't think Rick truly cared about her appearance, knew he didn't judge her by her hair or lack of makeup, but she missed feeling…feminine. All her reflection ever showed her these days was how sickly she still looked despite her growing appetite, rigorous exercise, and overall increase in physical health. Seeing herself in the mirror only made things harder.

"When we get back I will," she murmured, smoothing down the ends of the hospital gown that flowed to her knees.

"What time is PT today?" he asked while she held onto his shoulder, let the blood flow through her legs and down to her toes before they started slowly towards the door.

"Afternoon. We're working on my gait, turning my shuffle into an actual walk."

"Ah yes, I heard Patrick calls you 'zombie' now," he chuckled and Kate huffed, only partially in amusement. Patrick enjoyed humiliating her when he got the chance, but she couldn't complain. It had only been two weeks and she was almost walking normally again. The system worked.

"Yeah, well, aside from that, Patrick thinks I may be discharged within the next week or two."

Rick hesitated, but nodded, the hand at her lower back clenching just slightly. "He would be correct. I was planning to discuss it with you on Monday so you can start figuring things out."

"I talked to my dad, Rick." He stiffened. "I know what you did."

He stopped them in the middle of the hallway, turned to her with an apology written in his eyes, and she was glad he had the decency to look ashamed for doing specifically what she had told him not to.

"I know you didn't want me to interfere with this, and I wasn't trying to go against your wishes, Kate, but I just wanted-"

"Thank you," she cut in, because the gratitude for what he had done, for the difference he had made, was far stronger than the minor discontent she had briefly felt when her father had mentioned Rick's visit on the phone yesterday. "He's coming to see my today, before I have to go to PT."

Her doctor's face brightened immediately at that. "That's great! Does this mean you'll be staying with him once you're discharged?"

"No." She sighed and flexed her fingers to refrain from clenching them into fists. "He explained everything to me, the alcoholism, the help he's getting, but he doesn't think he'd be able to care for us both at the moment."

Rick caught her hand, tangled their fingers loosely under the gild of leading her down the last half of the hallway.

"It isn't easy for him-"

"It isn't easy for me either," she growled in a moment of self-pity. "Of course I want him to do whatever's best concerning his recovery, but I thought that would include having me as a part of his life again."

"He wants you in his life," Rick reassured her, like he had countless times when it came to the discussion of her father. "I think he's just afraid."

She shook her head, drew her hand from his as they reached the end of the hall and turned to make the slow travel back to her room. "I wish that was good enough for me right now."

"I'm sorry," he murmured, no touch this time to accentuate the statement. "I'm sorry this is hurting you."

"I am not _hurt_," she objected, but maybe she was, just a little. Feeling rejected by her own father wasn't exactly comforting. "I'm just not sure what I'm going to do now, where I'll go."

"We'll figure it out. If all else fails, you can shack up with me."

She huffed a laugh and nudged him with her shoulder, smiled proudly when he nudged her back and her precarious balance didn't sway like it would have a week ago.

She would make it out of here soon, and even if her father wouldn't take her in and she refused to impose on her friends, at least she now had a last resort.

* * *

Kate was holding to the wall, breathing heavily and trying to keep her body from tilting towards the floor. Her sessions with Patrick had become more intense with time; the more her body allowed, the more her physical therapist pushed, but she valued the tough workouts. She didn't want anyone taking it easy on her; she wanted the quickest route to recovery, to normalcy, and if leaving her session dripping with sweat and staggering back to her room was the way - so be it.

Although it was still her main priority, she had been walking for the past week - slowly, but still walking - so Patrick had been less concerned with her leg exercises for the day - making her do the variety of squats, lunges, and leg lifts for only a quarter of their time - and focused the majority of their hour together on toning her upper body and strengthening her core.

She could barely breathe.

Part of her loved physical therapy; it was her chance to _do _something rather than lay in a bed waiting for things to happen. She loved to sweat and feel her body burn with exertion, relishing in the sense of actual _progress_, but she hated the after effects. She hated the way she could barely move, how her body threatened to seize up on her through every step, and how she sometimes had to be wheeled back to her room instead of simply escorted. The workouts weren't hard, two years ago she would have been able to do the exact same exercises with relative ease, but now it was as if her body had never endured physical activity before.

She swatted at Cooper's hand when he reached to assist her as she stumbled, mumbling an apology under her breath to the gentle giant of a man Rick had not so subtly replaced Lisa with. Her former nurse still stopped by her room, still helped her with a few minor things she still grudgingly needed assistance with, but she hardly spoke to Kate now, and definitely wasn't making verbal jabs under the cloak of small talk like she used to. Again, it annoyed her that Rick had taken initiative and switched up his staff for her even after she had told him not to, but she couldn't necessary be upset that she hardly saw the bitter blonde anymore.

"Are you going to be okay for the rest of the night, Ms. Beckett?"

Kate nodded, not having the breath to spare for conversation.

"I'll be fine, thank you, Coop."

They were at the doorway to her room when they heard the first shot, a distinctive pop that she knew all too well. And then there was only the sound of panic.

Cooper immediately moved Kate inside and gave her a firm look before he turned to leave.

"Stay here, Ms. Beckett," Cooper told her calmly, but there was fear darkening his eyes and spreading into the lines of his face.

She nodded, watching Cooper rush out and slam the door behind him. It was her instinct to follow, to be out there, but even she knew she would be worthless to defend against whatever danger that had suddenly invaded the hospital. So instead she grabbed the empty vase on her bedside table – the only thing close to a weapon she had in this room – and shuffled towards the bathroom.

* * *

Rick hadn't taken a day off from work in three weeks, but he had needed to run some errands and get some writing done since he did have a deadline he had knowingly spent his time neglecting despite Gina's constant pestering. He'd managed to successfully churn out a few chapters, tweak the main plot for the story and work on his outline until it finally felt right, and he had just returned home with an armful of groceries after a quick trip to the market down the block when his cell started vibrating angrily in his coat pocket. He growled under his breath and maneuvered the phone out of his pocket before the call could go to voicemail.

"Lisa, I'm not-"

He paused in his protest at the frantic voice cutting him off, telling him there was a gunman in the hospital, that it was on lockdown and there were still people inside.

Panic flooded his system like ice water.

Kate.

He hadn't realized he had said her name out loud until Lisa choked back that she was still in there, that no one had been able to get to her through the chaos and now authorities weren't allowing anyone back inside.

Well, to hell with that.

He hung up midway through more of Lisa's hysterical explanations and dropped his groceries to the floor, turned right back around to head out the door. There was no way he was leaving Kate Beckett defenseless in a potential hostage situation.

* * *

Rick listened to the news through an app on his phone while he sprinted through Manhattan. According to sources that had been inside when the alleged shooter had first gotten into the building, two people were already dead. Apparently the gunman had simply walked inside, opened fire, and taken down the two victims while everyone else did their best to make an escape.

Shit, all of their patients.

It was easy to see as soon as he reached the hospital that the evacuation process had immediately gotten out of hand, as he knew it would, and maneuvering through the sea of scrambling people surrounding the sidewalks was no small feat, but he had to get to her. Lisa had already gone, been swept away in the first wave of panic with many of the other doctors and nurses on call that evening, and Salazar had never come in that day since her former neurologist wasn't scheduled to check up on her until next week. If he didn't get to her, there would be no one. Kate would have no one and he would not let her sit alone and practically immobile in a hospital bed while some killer was running around.

He tried not to let the contagious touch of terror enter his mind, not yet.

Rick stealthily circled around the building, to the side entrance that was only accessible with an employee keycard, and slipped inside the hospital.

It was eerily quiet, unfamiliarly still in the abandoned lobby, but he couldn't let himself dwell there; he scanned the area for any signs of immediate danger and hurried for the stairs when he determined the coast was clear. He held his breath for nearly the entire three flight climb up, adrenaline overshadowing the surge of fear zipping through his veins at the chance of running into the shooter on the way up. He knew some self-defense, basic martial arts, but no type of training could protect him from an enraged man with a quick trigger finger and one set mind.

He paused at the top step, tried to listen for sounds of a threat through the pounding of his heart and the rush of blood filling his ears. All he registered was more bone-chilling silence.

Rick moved from the dark stairwell and kept to the wall once he was on her floor, saw the hallway too was empty and instantly panicked when he saw the door to her room was cracked open. He ran, cursing himself for every breath of noise his shoes made on the linoleum floor, but wasted no time charging into her room.

He heard a quiet gasp and glanced down to see Kate on her knees beside the doorjamb, a glass vase that used to hold flowers in her hands, her face ashen and her eyes wide as they flew up to meet his. The relief that overcame her features rivaled the alleviation of panic filling his lungs and it was enough to make him to fall to his knees in front of her, haul her into his chest.

"Thank God you're okay," he breathed into her hair, holding her too tightly, but when she failed to squirm against him, failed to wiggle out of his grasp, reality crashed back in, and he began to notice the overwhelming fatigue weighing her body down. She sagged into him, fingers weakly clinging to the sides of his jacket instead of gripping, and her legs looked useless lying curled on the checkered teal and white floor.

"I was trying to hide, to wait," she rasped into his collarbone. "I was hoping… I knew you'd come for me."

"Always," he murmured into her crown, carefully placing her back against the wall and shrugging his coat off. "Here, put this on."

Kate set the vase down at her side and leant forward, allowed him to slip her arms through the sleeves and button his pea coat over her sweat stained tank top and yoga pants.

She had just returned from physical therapy then. Fuck, not good.

"I'm okay," she mumbled when he started checking her pulse, pressing his fingers to her neck to feel the weak thud. "Rick, please, I'm fine. We need to go."

He knew she was lying, for the most part anyway. The exhaustion she was wearing in her eyes and over her limbs - exhaustion from the combination of her physical therapy session and the added effort of heaving herself across the room - was visibly overwhelming her. She had begun walking in the beginning of the week, her determination pushing her towards improvement with each new day, but she still didn't possess the energy a normal body would.

Definitely not enough for this disaster of a night.

"I can walk," she grunted when he lifted her into his arms, cradling her against his chest as he hesitantly glanced back down the hallway.

"No offense, but you're still at snail speed and we need to go fast."

She huffed, but held onto him when he started moving back towards the stairs. They were so close, just a few feet from the stairway, but Rick came to an abrupt halt at the known sound of a gun's safety being clicked off.

"Put me down," she whispered fiercely. "Leave me here and go. You can still make it."

He looked down at her like she was crazy.

"Not happening."

"Rick-"

"_No_."

"You should listen to Detective Beckett, Doctor. I might let you live if you go now," a gruff voice informed them from the sinister cove of darkness their only exit had become.

Kate was stiff in his arms as the gunman stepped out from the stairwell and into view, the gun trained on them, on her.

"How do you know her?" Rick questioned instead. The gunman had called her by her name, addressed her title as a detective, and he had the sinking realization that, for whatever reason, this man had come specifically for Kate.

"I don't, she's just a cleanup job. Last chance."

"Rick, please," she murmured, digging her nails his shoulder, and Rick pursed his lips, but moved to carefully set her down by the wall.

"It'll be okay," he promised her, leaning forward to kiss her forehead even as the shooter raised his voice to a shout as he ordered Rick to leave.

"Do not be a hero," Kate whispered back sternly and then he was fighting his every instinct and pulling away before she could say anything else, heading for the nearest exit without her.

The gunman kept the weapon on him, pressed it roughly into Rick's back when he slowly eased past him to get to the stairs.

He spared one last glance over his shoulder at Kate, her frail body propped up against the wall, no hope for survival whatsoever, but she gave him a waning smile and nodded encouragingly. Rick continued down the stairs.


	9. Chapter 9

"Why are you after me?" Kate demanded, willing her arm not to shake as she put her weight on her hand to keep her body from slipping sideways. She was tired, so tired, her body quivering with just the effort of sitting up, and she had no chance to make a getaway, but if she was going to die, she was going to die with answers.

"Like I told your friend, this is nothing personal on my end, sweetheart," the man replied, and she grit her teeth at the patronizing way he spoke down to her.

"Who hired you?" she growled and he took a step closer, staring at her with harsh blue eyes and a malicious grin spread taut across his mouth.

"Forget-"

"Tell me _who_," she repeated, her entire body vibrating with the anger, the ferocious need to know the truth, to have a name.

He smirked then, bent over her so that his face was only inches from hers.

"The same person who hired me to kill you and your mommy two years ago."

She tried to conceal the immediate shock rippling through her body, the feeling of ice drenching her gut and freezing in her veins, but by the gleam in her killer's eyes, she didn't believe she was doing too well of a job.

"It doesn't matter now though, does it?"

Fire burned the ice inside of her and she clenched her fists, wished more than ever that she could just fucking _move_-

"You should have stayed in the coma, Detective. Would have saved us both a lot of trouble."

He raised his gun, poised his finger over the trigger, and Kate closed her eyes.

But instead of a shot, she heard a grunt and the hard thud of a body hitting the floor. Her eyes flew open to see Rick standing over her mother's killer with a fire extinguisher in his grasp, poised and ready over the unconscious man's body. The gunman was out cold, his nose bleeding and his face slack, but Rick heaved the fire extinguisher up to strike him again, prepared to bash the shooter's skull in when Kate yelled his name.

The malice cleared almost immediately from his face as he lifted his eyes to find her, and he lowered his improvised weapon, abandoned her almost killer for her instead.

"You could have gotten yourself killed," she rasped as he knelt in front of her, but she moved to her knees and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Don't ever do that again."

"I'm sorry I left you," he whispered, holding her tightly and releasing a strangled breath against her neck before hoisting her into his arms once more. "So sorry, Kate, I-"

"_Stop_," she choked out. "Stop apologizing, you just saved my life and-" She fisted her hand in his shirt. "And you allowed me to learn the truth."

He sighed heavily, the rise of his chest nudging against her ribcage, his erratically beating heart slamming in unison with hers.

"It wasn't an accident."

"Someone ordered a hit on me and my mom," she breathed, still in disbelief, still so confused.

"I'm moving you out of the hospital," Rick stated suddenly as they started down the stairs and she glanced up at him puzzled.

"Why? And to where? I have nowhere to go right now, Rick. My dad-"

"You can stay with me, or anywhere you want, I'll take you anywhere, it's just too much of a risk here now," he explained hastily, a tinge of hysteria to his voice that she didn't like. "They sent some murderer here for you who didn't get the job done, and when they find out you're still alive, they'll just send another."

"Let them send as many as they want, one of them will eventually crack and tell me why-"

Rick stopped in the middle of the stairwell and looked at her, again, as if she was crazy.

"Beckett, I know you want answers, and we'll get them, but not at the expense of your life. You just got it back." His eyes had turned serious, a riot of panic and fear and concern storming his irises. "Don't throw it away now."

He eased her down from his arms until her feet were touching the floor, pressed her gently into the railing to keep her steady, and cupped her face in his palms. She reluctantly placed her hands on his waist, telling herself it was only for balance, but she curled her fingers in his shirt when he dropped his forehead to hers.

"We'll call the boys, fill them in and let them start the investigation. In the meantime, we'll get you better. You can't fight when you can barely stand, Kate."

She exhaled her frustration through her nose, letting the anger and agitation slip out with the breath of air. She hated this, hated her body for its disobedience and betrayal, hated him for reminding her of how incapable she was of defending herself, hated more than anything that he was right.

She swallowed hard and slid one hand to his chest, gripped the collar of his shirt and pressed her nose into his cheek. "When I can, will you stand with me?"

He brushed his thumb along the outline of her lips and she lifted her chin, giving him the consent he was silently seeking, and he replaced his thumb with his mouth.

The kiss was gentle, soft and too short, but she reveled in the pleasant feel of his lips caressing hers. She'd secretly been wondering what kissing Rick Rodgers would be like, even dreamt about it a couple of times, and she wasn't disappointed. There had always been a strong current of electricity between them, and she knew most of his visits were social these days, but she had remained unsure if getting into a relationship with her doctor after being dead to the world for two years was a good idea.

It definitely _felt _pretty damn amazing.

He broke the connection of their mouths for air, but returned to add a few chaste kisses to her lips - causing them to split into a smile - before he spoke.

"Always," he said, stroking his fingers through her hair and she allowed her body to tilt forward into his, and not because she needed the physical support.

"Let me get you down to the paramedics, put you on some fluids."

"I don't need fluids," she sighed, letting him hold her weight as he wrapped an arm around her waist and began guiding her down the last few steps.

"We'll see. Either way, you're getting in an ambulance for my peace of mind."

She grumbled her protests even as he walked her through the lobby, towards the side exit she assumed he had snuck in through, but still found her lips curling when he skated his lips over her temple before discretely leading her out to an ambulance on the nearby street.

Buzzing bees and fluttering butterflies waged a war in her stomach as he helped her into the medical van, the shock of learning she and her mother had been targeted by a hired killer and the girlish excitement of sharing a first kiss with Rick all in the same ten minutes effortlessly overwhelming her. But she made the time to ignore both dizzying sensations to inhale her first breath of cool, night air in two years.

* * *

They had no choice but to move the majority of the patients back into the hospital that same evening, switching rooms around and keeping the third floor clear even after officers made the arrest of the unconscious Dick Coonan mere minutes after Rick had gotten Kate into the ambulance. Ryan and Esposito arrived less than an hour later while she was being moved to a small room on the first floor, immediately grilling Rick for every detail until Beckett silenced them all. She was too drained to handle a debriefing and pressed for them to go home and return tomorrow morning instead.

Her dad came by when she was sleeping. She had opted for one of the more temporary stations they kept in the ER for overnight patients, insisting she no longer needed a fully functional room for her now shortened stay. Rick had remained by her side without question, pacing the area like a guard at his station until she eventually grew tired of watching him make rounds in the tiny patch of space and told him to settle down next to her before she had allowed herself to sleep.

Rick had been dozing on and off with his head tilted back against the wall when he heard, and then saw, Jim Beckett bustling through the doorway.

"I heard about the shooting, is she okay?" he asked immediately, striding inside even as an unhappy night nurse trailed behind him whispering about protocol and visiting hours. Rick shooed her away and motioned for Jim to pull the curtain around them.

He was an idiot for not calling her father instantly, for allowing the man to learn about the potential harm that had come to his daughter through the news. The neglect had not been intentional, but he had been so focused on moving her and then calming the boys before they maimed him and now he felt lucky that his brain was still functioning properly through all the stress the night had brought.

"She's fine," he assured Jim quickly, glancing down to the woman with her forehead pressed to his hip and her knees curled against his calf. He momentarily flushed with embarrassment for letting Jim witness the odd form of intimacy they tended to only share in private. He should have sat in the chair. "I'm so sorry I didn't call, things have been hectic the last couple of hours, but it won't happen-"

Jim waved him off and took a seat in the chair on the other side of Kate's bed, smiling softly with relief as his eyes settled on her sleeping form and reaching forward to tenderly smooth a hand over her tousled hair.

"She's looking better."

Rick nodded proudly, happy to let his mind drift away from the events of the last few hours for at least a moment and discuss her progress instead. "She started walking this week."

A hint of a smile flickered across her father's lips, but it quickly faded away.

"Was she hurt at all tonight?"

"No." Rick hesitated. "But I have to ask you something."

Jim straightened in his seat, his eyes instantly hardening, and it pained Rick to see how prepared this man had trained himself to be for bad news, how accustomed he must be to it.

"The shooter that got into the hospital tonight," he started carefully, although there was no way to put what he was about to say gently. "He was here for her. Specifically."

The color drained from her father's face and Rick worried he might need to get the man some water.

"Why?"

"I have no idea. But he said…he mentioned your wife, and the accident. He told Kate that he had been hired to get rid of the two of them and that she had only lived because she was no longer a threat while in the coma. They didn't think she would wake up."

Jim lifted a shaking hand to scrub at his slack jaw, dread and confusion engraved into his aging features. "You're telling me that the car crash wasn't an accident? That someone purposely killed my wife?"

"It's what the gunman told Kate – when he tried to get to her, sir," Rick replied solemnly, trying so hard not to say the wrong thing. Jim appeared much healthier since the last time he had seen him, but he feared the news might destroy all of the progress he had made in the past few weeks and neither Beckett could afford that setback.

"He was here to...finish the job?"

"Apparently." Rick sighed, his eyes intuitively darting back down to Kate, needing the reassurance that she was still there, that the job had been left undone yet again.

"But - but _why_?"

"I was hoping you might know," Rick confessed. "Kate told me Johanna was a defense lawyer, could that perhaps have earned her some enemies?"

Jim furrowed his brow contemplatively, but continued to wear an expression of exasperation.

"Of course she had enemies, every lawyer does, but I never knew of any who would have gone to such lengths to get back at her for a case. And same goes for Katie. They both had dangerous jobs, but I never imagined…"

"I'm moving her out of here," Rick stated quietly but catching his attention, hoping to steer the conversation away from the darkness carving itself so deeply into Jim's eyes. "There are a number of secure facilities I know of, but for now, I offered her my place. There's security there, and the boys from the precinct are coming back tomorrow to discuss the investigation they'll be starting and the best ways to protect her."

Jim bobbed his head, fisted his hands together on the top of the bed, his eyes resting heavily on the gold band he still wore on his left ring finger.

"Good," he said. "Do whatever you have to, just don't let me lose her again."

The weight on Rick's shoulders returned with a vengeance, pounds heavier and punching the breath out of him.

"I'll do everything in my power. You could stay at my place too, Jim, if you'd like. I could make room-"

But Jim was already shaking his head in response. "No, there's no need for me to be there."

"She needs you," Rick inclined his head to Kate. "I think it'd mean a lot to her if you were here when she wakes up."

"I will be. I'm going to head to the storage center tonight, gather up some of her things – clothes, shoes, stuff she had in her apartment that I saved – and I'll bring it by in the morning. Anything specific she might want?"

Rick thought for a second. "Shoes. No heels, but any flats she has, preferably some boots, would work. If it'd be easier, I could give you an extra key to my loft and you could drop the majority of her things there."

Jim progressively grew more relieved as they both discussed moving plans. It was something to do, something to keep their minds from going near the knowledge that someone was after Kate and there was only so much they could do to keep her safe.


	10. Chapter 10

Kate slept through the majority of the next day, waking every few hours, but only long enough to catch a glimpse of Rick beside her or hear a snippet of his voice nearby before sleep overcame her once more. She had known after the events of the night before that her exhaustion was strong, but she hadn't necessarily expected for it to knock her out for nearly fifteen hours.

"Morning sunshine," Rick greeted her at around five in the evening the next day, when she finally managed to lift her head and keep her eyes peeled open for longer than a handful of seconds. "You need to eat and Campbell wants to see you."

She groaned and huffed indignantly when Rick gently manhandled her into a sitting position. Campbell was her psychiatrist and during their last session, he had gotten her to open up far more than she had originally intended to allow.

By the end of the session, she had revealed too much of herself and become a whimpering mess curled in the chair across from him.

"What does Campbell want with me?"

"Well, I spent the morning pushing your discharge papers to the top of the list, speeding up the process, and when I spoke with him about it, he mentioned that he needed to assess your mental state before he could sign off on such a serious decision."

"When?"

"Tomorrow morning. If all goes as planned, I was hoping I'd be able to take you home after lunch."

An excited tremor clamored up her spine, either from the mention of actually going home or going home _with him_; she wasn't sure. But her eager anticipation was rivaled by the unease of preparing for her session with Doctor Campbell. She had never looked forward to the appointments, but this one was especially foreboding knowing it would determine whether or not she could finally leave the hospital.

"Your dad was here for the majority of the day as well," Rick said, pulling her from her reverie of dread.

"What?" she whispered, feeling her heart drop into her empty stomach. "And I missed him?"

"He left a little while ago, but he'll be back," Rick told her quickly, rising from beside her to bring over a tray of hospital food. "He was here the night before too."

Kate stared down glumly at the turkey sandwich and accompanying fruit cup sitting in her lap.

"Where is he now?"

"My place, I think. He went to the storage center last night, picked up a lot of your things."

"He must really like you," she surmised, taking a sip from the water bottle he passed to her.

Rick's eyebrows creased in curiosity. "Why do you say that?"

"Well, look who's awake."

Kate glanced past the curtain only halfway drawn around the bed and smiled at the sight of her father coming through the doorway, a duffle bag hanging from his arm and a greasy fast food container in his hand.

"Hey, I made you that sandwich," Rick huffed as she carelessly pushed the cafeteria tray onto the table at the side of the bed and rose to greet her dad.

She rolled her eyes at him from over her father's shoulder as she stepped into his embrace. "I'll eat your sandwich later. I smell a Remy's burger."

"Doctor Rodgers mentioned you were getting desperate for real food," Jim chuckled, keeping his arms around her even as the white bag of food began to warm her back. "You okay, Katie?"

Kate turned her face into his neck, hugged him back. The few visits her father had made to see her had been brief and uncomfortable, a wall of hurt and years of loss hanging between them, but as she stood in her dad's arms and inhaled his familiar scent that lacked the unwanted addition of alcohol, she felt the walls between them slowly but surely beginning to dissolve.

"I'm good," she murmured, pulling back and taking a seat at the edge of the hospital cot. Her dad sat down beside her while he opened up the bag and handed her a burger.

"Cheeseburger okay with you, Rick?"

"My favorite." Her doctor grinned as he plopped down in the chair across from them that she was sure her father usually occupied instead.

Kate noticed as she nibbled on one of the fries from the bag that her dad and Rick got along well, the rapport between them effortless and natural, and she found herself envious yet relieved. If something happened to her, again, they could lean on one another.

* * *

"Detective Beckett, did you walk yourself here?" Dr. Campbell asked, a hint of a smile playing on his always calm face and she offered a small lift of her lips in return as she nodded. "Coffee?" he offered, referring to the pot she could smell brewing in the staff lounge down the hall, and she really would love some on this early Monday morning, but she shook her head in declination.

"You wanted to see me?"

"Yes," he said, sitting forward in his office chair and motioning for her to close the door before she took her seat in the cracked pleather at the opposite side of his desk. "I know we've only met a few times throughout your stay here, and I'm inclined to give you the all clear on your discharge papers, but I just wanted to discuss a couple of things before you leave."

Kate nodded once again, skeptical this time. She did like Campbell, he was an easy man to talk to and if he had any judgments about her or anyone else, he never let them show. But she hadn't spent much of her time in this type of therapy, only attending twice a week of the near three weeks she had been in the hospital for recovery, and she would not say anything now to jeopardize her chance of finally getting out of here.

"How are you feeling, after what happened with the gunman the other day?"

Kate brushed a strand of hair behind her ear and tried not to let her gaze with the doctor break, knowing it was one of her tells that he had quickly picked up on.

"Fine, I want to know who sent him."

"So you can solve your mother's case?"

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat; Rick could have warned her about how much her psychiatrist knew.

"Yes."

"Are you worried about your own safety?"

Again, she had to force her gaze to remain locked and steady with the man across from her. She admittedly had not been sleeping well the last two nights, constantly waking in fear with a cold sweat running down her back every other hour and usually causing Rick to jerk awake beside her. Both waiting for the next attack.

"No."

"Do you plan to go back to work soon?"

"As soon as I possibly can. I intend to contact my captain in the upcoming week," she confirmed resolutely.

Campbell hummed, wrote something down on the yellow legal pad he kept on the center of his desk.

"Are you at all worried about leaving the hospital?" he asked and she frowned in confusion.

"No, why should I be? I've been waiting to go home since the day I woke up."

"And I've admired your determination, Detective, but I just wanted to warn you beforehand, it might be a little overwhelming the first couple of days."

"Overwhelming?"

"To be back out there," he supplied, gesturing towards the window behind him. "Being surrounded by other people and worldly commotions. Here, you've been on your own with the exception of the hospital staff and occasional visits from your friends and family. It doesn't happen to everyone – we're all different – but I do feel you may be at a higher risk considering the fact that you were recently made a target for a hired assassin."

"How much did R- Doctor Rodgers tell you?" she questioned without missing a beat, but Campbell gave nothing up either.

"Only what he thought was necessary. He wants to take every precaution necessary to keep you safe and healthy, Detective. As do I, which is why I simply wanted to advise you to take it easy, don't throw yourself out into the world like you haven't been kept from it for the past two years."

What Campbell was telling her made sense, it did, but she refused to believe she couldn't handle having her life back. She had been in a coma, not held captive, not isolated from humanity; she had just been asleep. And yeah, there was someone out there who wanted her dead, but it wouldn't be the first time in her life.

She would be fine.

"Am I free to go?"


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: I'm aware that in the real world a patient would not be released into a doctor's personal care as I am portraying here, but for the sake of this story, let's just pretend.**

* * *

Rick came trotting into Kate's room only to be greeted by the hard glare of Doctor Salazar, who appeared to be in the middle of what looked like a tense conversation with his patient. Rick had had the day before off due to his involvement with the shooting on Saturday, and when he had asked for Monday off as well, his boss hadn't hesitated, so he had intended to spend the day moving Kate into his loft. But it looked like Salazar was determined to change those plans.

"Ms. Beckett, I truly think you should reconsider this. You could still move to the rehabilitation facility instead," Salazar insisted, but Beckett didn't appear moved by the recommendation.

The man had been her neurologist for the near two years she was in the coma, running tests and checking her for signs of improvement every other week, and Rick respected him, as well as his opinions, but he had given Kate every option available to her and she had still agreed to choose his loft over the rehabilitation center in upstate New York.

Kate, who was proudly standing, crossed her arms resolutely and held Salazar's reasoning gaze. "I do understand your concerns, Doctor, but I've already chosen to spend the rest of my recovery under the care of Doctor Rodgers and I'm sticking with my decision."

Rick had a feeling Salazar knew there was no persuading a woman like her, so determined and headstrong, so he sighed in defeat and grudgingly nodded his consent before looking to Rick.

"May I speak to you in the hall for a moment?"

"Of course," Rick nodded, but he already knew what Salazar was going to say and felt the headache threatening to form at the base of his skull.

"You really find that appropriate?" the fellow physician questioned curtly once they were in the hallway, a few feet from the open doorway.

"It's no longer safe for her here and she's made it clear she doesn't want to go to the rehab facility. I'm offering her a temporary stay at my loft as her doctor until the situation improves. That's all."

"Is it, Doctor Rodgers? You do know taking advantage of a patient, in any way, could have the board taking some serious disciplinary actions against you, correct? And you wouldn't want to risk embarrassing yourself and the hospital by crossing those sorts of boundaries, would you?"

Rick's face darkened at the insinuation Salazar was presenting, and he took an intimidating step closer to the older man.

"There is nothing going on between my patient and I, surely not of that nature. I care only for her well being and the progress in her recovery."

Salazar eyed him skeptically, glancing back to Kate's room as if gauging the risk of what allowing her to be released to a fellow doctor may be.

Rick had to admit the arrangement straddled the cautionary line between business and personal matters. He knew it probably wasn't the best idea for his image as a professional, but he refused to leave her out in the open and vulnerable to more hired killers. He had good security in his building and - after tirelessly discussing the situation with Ryan and Esposito - had arranged for an unmarked police vehicle to remain parked outside day and night. Her safety was all he cared about and he would go to whatever lengths to keep her out of the crosshairs. If that meant having her reside in his loft for a few days, maybe weeks, he could live with that.

Happily.

"Fine, if you want the extra responsibility, Doctor, it's all yours," he announced sardonically, thrusting the stack of papers containing Kate's medical information into Rick's chest and striding down the hall, purposely bumping his shoulder as he left.

Rick huffed and cradled the hefty load in the crook of his elbow, walked back inside her room to see Kate curiously studying the shopping bags he had brought in before Salazar had escorted him out.

"I just grabbed you some clothes to wear for today," he said in explanation, lifting the bags from the floor and offering them up to her. Jim had brought her some items that he had kept in storage for her earlier, but in the last two years, Kate had lost a lot of weight and no longer fit into her regular size of clothing. So Rick had gone shopping.

She eyed both him and the two bags skeptically, but accepted when he nudged them against her fingers. He knew he was annoying her, eagerly watching while she pulled out each item as if he was witnessing a child unwrapping a Christmas present, but he'd put a lot of thought into the outfit he had picked out for her – probably too much thought if he was being honest – and he really hoped she would approve of his choices.

"Rick..." Her face was an expression he couldn't read, jaded yet surprised while she looked down at the coat, sweater, and pair of jeans carefully spread out on her neatly made hospital bed, and his heart sank a little.

"I can go back," he said hastily. "If you tell me what you'd prefer, I can-"

She huffed and shook her head at him. "I was going to say, I know I've been out for a while, but I still remember all of these brands and how expensive they are. _Burberry_," she uttered incredulously as she lifted the quilted leather trench coat that had made him think of her when he'd seen it in the shop window that morning.

He shrugged, because really? Money didn't matter much to him. Obviously, he appreciated having two incomes that allowed him to live comfortably, but he never splurged on anything. Why not splurge on her?

"Consider it a welcome home gift."

"A welcome to _your_ home gift, you mean?" she retorted, but gently laid the coat back down.

"But…you like them?"

She turned her head, a tender smile blossoming as she studied him for a brief moment.

"I do," she nodded, stepping closer and making his heart accelerate – as silly as that was considering personal space hardly existed between them most days. She glanced over his shoulder, making sure the semi-open door gave her the privacy she needed to wrap her fingers around his bicep, circle her thumb over the muscle. "I'll pay you back for this, Rick. I have money, an account my dad kept for me-"

"No, you won't. Gift, remember?"

She wasn't pleased about it, but he reached over and retrieved the jeans and the sweater, draped them over one of her arms and nudged her towards the bathroom.

"Get dressed so we can go."

Her eyes lit up at that, flashed brightly with excitement. Ever since he had led her out of the hospital after narrowly avoiding her death 39 hours ago, she had been gushing over how amazing it had been to be outside the hospital walls, to taste fresh air – if it could really be considered 'fresh' in New York City – and asking him basic questions, trying to get a grasp on the world she was being thrust back into, trying to catch up on any substantial changes she may have missed. He didn't mind; he preferred showing her how the newer versions of iPhones worked rather than discussing her mother's death and the ordered hit on her life.

Ryan and Esposito had come by yesterday and they'd all had a meeting around her hospital bed. After seeing how her team worked, and being reluctantly allowed to become a part of their immediate family, his rabbiting heart had eased into a steady rhythm. He hadn't left her side since the shooting, terrified that the moment he did, the moment she was alone, she would meet her undoing. Rick knew he couldn't protect her on his own, knew he wasn't the kind of protection she needed, but having a pair of trained detectives who loved her as much as he-

_Whoa, slow down there, Rick. _

-who _cared about her life_ as much as he did lightened the load from his shoulders. With Ryan and Esposito restlessly interrogating Dick Coonan, the shooter from the night before, and doing everything they could to track down a lead, Rick actually had the hope that they could catch the person behind the orchestrated car crash.

And of course, once Kate Beckett was back at the Twelfth, he had no doubt in his mind they would get the guy.

He had to admit he enjoyed seeing her take charge, watching her entire body ignite with untouchable tenacity as she gave her boys a list of objectives to complete while she was healing. He finally saw why the two always called her 'boss'.

"What'd Salazar say?"

She was still in the bathroom, but Rick could see her reflection through the partially opened door while she worked her fingers through her hair.

"He's just not happy with your decision and my support of that decision."

"Will he try to put a stop to it?" she asked, a tinge of apprehension lurking in the corners of her eyes as she met his in the bathroom mirror.

"No, I think he knows it'd be a pointless battle."

"Yeah, because I'm not going to that rehabilitation center upstate," she muttered, more to herself than him, as she pushed the bathroom door open.

He couldn't help but stare. He liked Kate Beckett in a hospital gown and robe or sweatpants and t-shirts just fine, but he thought he might like her even better in the fashionable garments he'd purchased for her that morning. She looked more like the woman he had met two years ago.

Kate cleared her throat and he quickly snapped his wandering eyes back to her expectant ones, blurted the first logical question he could think of.

"Does everything fit?"

She smirked, crossed her arms over her chest as she looked back at him skeptically. "Surprisingly, which makes me wonder why you're so skilled at picking out women's clothing."

He chuckled, couldn't help the way his hand migrated to her jean-clad hipbone or how his eyes continued to rove over her figure. "I just took your measurements to the store with me, Kate."

"And how'd you know my favorite color?" she asked, plucking at the soft, royal purple fabric of her sweater.

"Lucky guess?"

"Mm, I'm pretty impressed."

"Mission accomplished then."

He was blatantly staring at her mouth and began to lean in when her fingers curled around his ear - only to jerk back at the sharp twist she delivered.

"Oww, apples, apples-"

"Apples?" she laughed, thankfully allowed her torturous fingers to fall away from his aching cartilage.

"Safe word," he grumbled, rubbing at his delicate skin while she moved past him to sit on the bed and slide on the boots her dad had brought yesterday morning. The rest of her wardrobe, along with all of her other possessions, had been dropped off at his loft the night before.

She was smirking as she lifted from the bed for the last time and slipped the coat on, but as she stood before him, a foreign shyness seemed to wash over her and she met his eyes hesitantly.

"Do I look okay?"

"You look beautiful."

"Not like I've been dead to the world for two years?"

He shook his head and rested his hands along her shoulders, his thumb branching out to brush over the pronounced ridge of her collarbone.

"You're going to be fine. And you don't have to do this alone, we're going out there together."

She stole one of his hands from her shoulders, trapped it in hers and squeezed.

"Thank you," she said sincerely. "I don't think I've ever mentioned how grateful I am for everything you've done for me, everything you're still-"

"Shh," he quieted her, dusting his lips over her forehead out of habit. Bad habit. She had asked him to wait.

They'd had a lot of time to talk in the last two days, and they had come to the conclusion that there _was _something between them, something worth exploring, but Kate wanted time. Time to rediscover the world and her life and get her own world back in order. And he respected that, understood and encouraged it, but he could already tell that sharing a loft with her while they were 'waiting' was not going to be so easily done.

He nudged her forward. "Let's go before Salazar comes back or Lisa decides to stop by and wish you well."

Kate looped her arm in his and they quickly started for the door.

* * *

"So where are you leading me?" she quipped as they exited the hospital and he watched in something close to fascination as her eyes lit up in the sunlight and she inhaled her first hospital free breath of the day.

"SoHo," he replied, tearing his eyes away from her before she noticed his staring.

She made a noncommittal sound. "My place was in Tribeca."

"You wanna go there first?"

She contemplated it for a second before shaking her head.

"I doubt there would be a point, it's probably not mine anymore. Josh told me over the phone that the landlord got it back on the market within a few months."

"But your dad got all of your stuff, right?" He tightened his hold on her arm as they became free of the hospital's borders and propelled into the bustling streets of Manhattan.

"The important stuff," she answered, squeezing lightly where her fingers were tucked into the crook of his elbow, but her attention was on her surroundings.

She looked childlike, for once, he observed - her eyes wide and wonderstruck, gazing around the city as if she was seeing it for the very first time despite having grown up and lived there her entire life.

"Things haven't changed too terribly," she noted after a few moments, but that childlike innocence was receding, crumpling up under something dark in her eyes that he couldn't understand.

"Nah, just the typical advances in technology and increase in reality television mainly."

She nodded, moved closer against his side. He felt her shiver as the bitter chill of the late January air breezed past them minutes later, only a couple blocks from his place. "Are you warm enough?"

She nodded again, the action jerky this time, but when he glanced over to her, she was pale and her eyes were darting in every direction.

"Kate?"

She flinched, raised a hand to her face, but she still wasn't answering him and couldn't hide the hunted look from her eyes. The signs were subtle, but he had seen them enough to know what was happening.

She was having a panic attack.


	12. Chapter 12

Rick guided her into an empty alley between a dry cleaning place and an Indian restaurant and held her by the shoulders as she tried to breathe.

She had been fine, everything had been fine, and then it suddenly wasn't. The longer they walked, the more breathless she had begun to feel, the more suffocated, like there was a knot forming in the middle of her sternum taking up all the space, all the air, until she couldn't ignore it. And there were people after her, hunting her, wanted her dead, and just - people everywhere and _why_ was her body turning on her yet again?

Fuck, Campbell had warned her, he had known-

Her vision started to slant, but Rick was there, keeping her upright, breaking through the haze with his voice.

"You're okay, Kate. Just stay with me, concentrate on my voice-"

"What's wrong with me?" she gasped, the knot of panic slowly beginning to unwind in her chest as he rubbed his thumbs in soothing circles over her triceps.

"Nothing, nothing's wrong with you, you've just…you've been in a form of isolation for a while now. Throwing you out into a crowded sidewalk probably wasn't a great idea for your first day out," he sighed, but she gripped the lapels of his coat.

"Don't take me back, I can get better, just don't-"

"Kate," he quieted her, stroking a hand through her hair and cradling her skull. "I'm not taking you back, we're going to get a cab and go to my place. We'll work on easing you back into society over the week. You'll be fine."

Easing her back into society? Like she was some kind of antisocial outcast? Wonderful.

She turned her head from him, didn't realize her composure was crumbling for an entirely different reason until he was brushing a thumb under her eye to catch the moisture gathering there before it fell.

"I thought the hardest part was over," she muttered, crossing her arms over her chest tightly to keep the receding remnants of her panic attack from returning.

Rick dropped his forehead to hers, resting there like he knew the action calmed her, which he probably did. He knew too much, this stupid, beautiful man who she was letting take care of her when she was supposed to be taking care of herself.

"You woke up from a two year coma, you got your body functioning normally in less than a month, and now you've been discharged from the hospital. You've accomplished an extraordinary amount, Kate, this is just another hurdle."

She sucked in another breath and dislodged her forehead from his, hid her face in the cove of his neck instead. She was tired of jumping hurdles; she just wanted to reach the finish line.

* * *

Rick kept his gaze over his shoulder on her huddled form still leaning against the alley wall while he hailed a cab. When one finally stopped for him, Kate was already at his side again, ready to climb in. She was quiet on the way to his loft, a heavy cloud of shame hanging over her, but he was eventually able to coerce a smile from her, an involuntary chuckle or a roll of her eyes, as he chatted through the brief drive, pointing out landmarks through the taxi window as if he were a tour guide. By the time they reached his loft, she was much more relaxed aside from the strict line of tension down her spine that he could feel when he placed his hand to her lower back.

The strain in her muscles slowly began to loosen while he guided her past the sidewalk and into the building's entrance, and he noticed her eyes examining the interior of the spacious and elegantly styled lobby. She kept her expression neutral, of course, made no indication that she was at all impressed, and it only made him like her more. Most women tended to marvel over his obvious wealth when he brought them to his home. Kate was different, in many ways, but overall, she was real. She had no superficial intentions, was only staying with him because he was the closest thing to a friend she had at the moment.

He greeted Eduardo the doorman before ushering Kate to the elevator, and she had recovered enough on the ride over to smile charmingly at the man, offer her hand and a pleasant "nice to meet you". When they continued on towards the lift, she surprised Rick by catching his fingers, nonchalantly allowing their palms to kiss and their fingers to twine, and holding on throughout the entire three floor ride up.

He unlocked and opened his front door with a flourish, releasing her hand to sweep his arm in a dramatic gesture at the entrance before she could go inside. She rolled her eyes but stepped past him, her jaw dropping ever so slightly as she took in the sight of the place, but she hid the awe well.

"Wow, Rick. You rich or something?"

She shot him a grin over her shoulder and he shrugged while he closed the door behind them.

"Well, I'm not James Patterson rich, but I do okay."

"Hmm, so I can cross him off my list then," she commented thoughtfully.

"Still trying to figure out my secret identity I see."

"You're a well-known mystery writer, there are many of you, but I _will _narrow it down," she told him confidently, but Rick only smirked back at her, captured her hand in his once more and began leading her away from the front door and deeper into his loft.

"We'll see, but before you start your detecting, let's get a tour of your temporary haven out of the way."

She rolled her eyes again, but trailed after him, allowing their hands to remain loosely laced as they stepped into his office.

"This where the magic happens?" she asked, her eyes shining as they roved over the walls of books.

"Most of the time," he replied, watching as she broke away from him and drifted towards one of the bookshelves, tracing spines of novels with delicate fingers and studying the framed art on the wall.

"I was only able to fit about half as many in my apartment," she mumbled, referring to the sheer amount of books, but absentmindedly tapping an older Richard Castle novel with her index finger and he quickly attempted to draw her away from the unintentional clue with small talk.

"Your dad told me he saved all your books, said they're still at the storage center if you ever want to go get them."

"Maybe when I find somewhere more permanent to keep them," she murmured, coming back to his side and glancing to him expectantly when he failed to continue the tour, too hung up on the fact that she would be leaving soon.

He couldn't let himself get used to this.

"Where to next?"

"Ah. Your temporary room," Rick stepped over to the side of the office and pushed open the door that led into what was clearly his bedroom.

Kate paused and turned to him with what was clearly apprehension written in her eyes and along the nervous line of her mouth.

"Rick, I know we sometimes stayed together in the hospital, but-"

He cut her off with a laugh. "No, we're not sharing my room. I'm going to let you crash here, while I take the guest room upstairs."

Her eyebrows knit together and her mouth fell into that adorable frown of confusion. "Why?"

"I know you're stronger now, Kate, but I don't want you having to climb a flight of stairs multiple times a day just to get to and from your room."

"But I'm not going to kick you out of yours," she began adamantly, moving forward to grab the duffle her dad had dropped off from the floor it had been residing on. "I'm already imposing enough as it is."

"You're not imposing, Beckett. You know that," he insisted as he stole her duffle bag back from her fingers and dropped it at the foot of his bed. "This just makes things easier. And I promise, everything's been washed and cleaned. I've got some equipment installed in the bathroom so-"

"_Equipment_?"

"Just a shower chair," he promised, doing his best to placate her need for as little assistance as possible in this last stretch on her road to normalcy. "Unless you'd rather I help you shower."

She glared at him for the purposeful leering he added to the comment and turned on her heel.

"C'mon, show me the rest of this place."

Rick breathed a silent sigh of relief and followed Kate as she strode through the office and back into the living area. He took her through the first floor easily, showing her where everything was, opening every cabinet and drawer in the kitchen, just so he knew she was aware of where she could find anything she may need, and then he guided her up the stairs.

"There isn't much up here aside from the guest room," he said noncommittally, hoping she wouldn't inquire about the other bedroom on the second floor, but her gaze traveled down the hall and she wordlessly asked the question with her eyes. "Alexis." was all he said. "It's empty."

Rick turned to head back down the stairs, but Kate snagged his arm before he could escape. It was apparent she hadn't thought the move through, uncertainty clouding her irises, turning them an unreadable shade of amber, but then she was stepping into him, snaking her arms around his torso and holding him tightly. He felt uncertain too, not used to the blatant moves of affection, especially outside of the hospital, but his arms came around her before she could let go, held onto her body just as tightly as she held to him.

* * *

Kate stood awkwardly at the side of his bed later that night, biting her lip and gripping at the towel wrapped around her body. She had showered in his bathroom, surrounded by his scent as she washed her hair and scrubbed away the clinging odor of the hospital from her skin with his soap. Now she should be preparing for bed, but she was considering marching back out there and demanding he give her the upstairs bedroom.

She growled to herself. This was stupid, _she _was being stupid. Rick was doing his best to make her stay in his home as trouble-free as possible, and here she was, panicking over sleeping in his bedroom.

Kate dropped the towel and reached into the duffel bag, found an oversized t-shirt and some underwear, but when she slipped the shirt on, she was assaulted with the stench of mothballs. She coughed and stripped it back off, tossed it into the hamper near the door. She would need to have a lot of her clothing dry-cleaned to rid them of the musty smell, or at least allow them some time to air out before she could wear them again.

She was contemplating sleeping naked, but her gaze drifted to his dresser. It was just clothing, she told herself as she slowly pulled one of the drawers open and found the most helpful solution to her current problem.

"Rick?" she called hesitantly a few minutes later.

He appeared all too quickly, knocking on the door before barging in - the doctor in him expecting the worst she was sure - but he paused at the sight of her dressed in his clothing.

"Is this okay?"

"Yes," he nodded, eyes doing only a brief assessment of her in his faded green superhero t-shirt and grey sweatpants that she had rolled up multiple times around her hips. "Totally okay. Did something happen to your clothes?"

"Not necessarily. They've just been packed up for so long…"

"Ah." He nodded his understanding. "Well, I have a washer and dryer. Otherwise, you can let me know what needs dry-cleaning, and I can take some of your clothes with mine when I go this week."

"Thanks," she murmured, thoughtlessly rubbing at her forehead.

"Still okay?" he asked in concern.

"Yeah," she sighed, pursing her lips and glancing back to the bed. "Just tired."

She had a feeling he didn't believe her, but he touched her shoulder and then startled her by pressing his lips to her forehead even though it shouldn't have been much of a surprise at all. "I'll go then. Goodnight, Kate."

She forced a waning smile for him and lowered herself to the edge of the mattress. "Night."

* * *

She couldn't sleep for a long time. Maybe it was the change in surroundings or the still ridiculous nerves over taking his bedroom, but she spent nearly an hour tossing and turning and losing her staring match with his ceiling. It didn't take long at all for her mind to begin a spiral, fluctuating between worrying for her father, missing her mother, contemplating the best approach to becoming a detective again, and panicking about her relationship with Rick. The overbearing yet familiar regret of losing two years of her life that always hovered in the back of her mind decided to chime in as well and eventually she had to get up, leave the bed and stand by the window in an attempt to clear her head.

Kate pressed her forehead to the cool glass, allowed her eyes to roam over the bright sea of city lights that she had yearned to see for so long, and watched the snow layering the ground below. She was almost tempted to get dressed, go wake Rick and ask him if he wanted to go have some fun in the blissfully white winter wonderland below. She already knew he wouldn't refuse her. He enjoyed spending time with her too much.

"What am I doing?" she whispered, squeezing her eyes shut and pursing her lips when she realized she had been expecting an answer.

_You're overthinking things, Katie,_ her mother would have said in response, just like she always had in the past. _Just take a deep breath, this isn't anything you can't handle. _

Kate shook her head and turned towards the office; she was sounding delusional to even herself. She plucked from the shelf the first book her fingers caught and curled up in the leather office chair behind his desk, spun it to face the window and opened the novel.

She didn't leave the room until she heard him coming down the stairs a little after six that morning.


	13. Chapter 13

Kate shuffled out of his bedroom while he was finishing the last of his breakfast and he tried not to stare – again – at the way his clothes draped so perfectly over her lithe body as she came towards him.

"Morning, sleep okay?" he asked from the kitchen.

She nodded, running her fingers through the tangles in her hair and sighing drowsily.

"Listen, you know I hate to leave you here with nothing to do, but I made you breakfast," he said, pointing to the pan of scrambled eggs, bacon, and the plate of pancakes on the bar. He didn't know what she liked. "Oh, I also got you this." He grabbed his messenger bag off the barstool and dug out the brand new iPhone he had bought her and set it on the countertop. "Sorry I forgot to give it to you last night. My number's already in the contact list, as well as your dad's and the boys'. Call me anytime, no matter what, even if you're just bored, I'll answer. I'll be back by five tonight, I'll bring you dinner, or we can go get dinner, and then we can go for a walk before it gets dark. You can text or call me later, let me know what you're in the mood for-"

She strode up to him and caught the back of his neck with gentle fingers. Standing on her tiptoes, she pressed an impulsive kiss to his lips that caused him to completely forget about anything else he had planned to say.

Rick rocked back on his heels, but still had enough time to raise his hand, brush his fingertips over one of her cheekbones, before she pulled away.

"I mean it when I say I can't tell you how much I appreciate this," she whispered, dropping back down to the balls of her feet and smiling up at him demurely. "I'll see you after work."

He touched his lips, where hers had been only seconds before, once she had brushed past him. She was wearing his clothes and kissing his lips and no, he wasn't going to survive her throughout her stay here.

* * *

Rick sighed tiredly as he heaved his front door open and hung his coat in the closet, resting his head against the doorjamb for a handful of seconds before closing it quietly so not to worsen his already brutal headache.

He'd received condescending looks and disgraced glares from at least half of his staff for the entirety of his eight hour shift and Salazar had come by after lunch, badgered him about forcing Kate to relocate to the rehab center until Rick had finally lost his temper and not so quietly told the older doctor to leave. It had been a long day.

He took a moment to appreciate the quiet solitude of his loft, but then he remembered it shouldn't be quite so noiseless.

"Kate?"

When he received no answer, he set his bag down by the door and stepped into the living room. The slow building worry abated as he glanced down to see she was asleep on the couch, curled into the corner with a throw blanket draped over her hips. He approached her quietly, not wanting to wake her since he knew she was having a hard time adjusting to a proper sleeping schedule. Her naps at the hospital had been erratic, occurring numerous times throughout the day and sometimes causing her to lay restless and awake through the night. But he was sure he recalled her saying this morning that she had slept fine the night before…

Rick knelt beside the couch, wincing as his knees popped, and brushed her hair back behind her ear.

"Kate," he murmured softly, causing her eyebrows to scrunch together. "You should wake up, or you won't be able to sleep tonight."

She released a heavy sigh, but her eyes fluttered open and she graced him with a light smile that made his heart skip at its own volition. He really wished that side effect would fade already.

"How long have you been back?" she rasped.

"Just walked in. I tried to call you about an hour ago."

She frowned and glanced to the coffee table where her iPhone lay face down.

"I'm sorry. I must have been sleeping."

"Were you okay today?" he asked, sitting down near her shoulder and she nodded.

"Fine, I had one of those TV dinners from your fridge for lunch, did a little bit of laundry in your complicated washer and dryer, and then watched an entire season of that _Game of Thrones_ show you have on DVD."

"Sounds like a great way to spend your first day of freedom."

She chuckled and rubbed at her eyes before sitting up and smoothing her thumb over his eyebrow. "You don't look so great though, what happened?"

His eyes drifted closed at the soft touch along his brow that trailed down the side of his face, her short fingernails scraping lightly through the stubble along his jaw.

"Just a rough day at work."

She hummed, combed her fingers through his hair until he unconsciously started to tilt towards her.

"I think you're the one who needs a nap, Rick."

He shook his head, blinked a few times to make sure the fuzzy edges of exhaustion had left his vision, and stood up. "If you're up for it, I actually thought we could go on a short walk, grab something to eat."

"Sure," Kate said, but he saw how the prospect of going back outside made her nervous.

"We'll just go through the park, it's less crowded this time of day, and then we can go to this amazing little Italian place nearby."

She nodded, looking at least a tad bit more comfortable with the plan, and rose, started off towards his bedroom.

"Let me just get changed."

Rick made some coffee while she was gone, divided the pot between two thermals and added some vanilla creamer and cinnamon to hers. Kate returned minutes later as he was securing the lids, wearing a fresh pair of jeans that she had to cinch a belt around and a long sleeved Henley with the boots she had worn yesterday. He hoped to fatten her up a little while she was staying with him, get some high calorie foods in her system to help put some weight on her naturally slim body.

Rick handed her the coffee, held her coat up for her, and wordlessly took her hand as he led her out of the loft. Eduardo waved to them as they stepped out and Kate forced a smile for his doorman, did the same with the officer in the unmarked in front of his building while Rick quickly explained where they were going and when they would be back.

They walked in companionable silence through their short travel from his loft to the park less than a mile away. Foot traffic was heavy, as it always was, and Kate listed into him the more she was nudged and jostled by fellow civilians. Eventually, he gave in and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, suppressed a smile when he felt her body begin to ease up against his.

He let her go and reclaimed her hand once they entered the park, which was relatively less congested, and heard her breath a loud sigh of relief.

"Better?"

"Yeah, it's not so bad here."

Beckett was almost able to relax completely as they strolled through the park for fifteen minutes, admiring her surroundings instead of wincing at them, mostly. The occasional bird rustling through the trees or jogger sprinting past still tended to put her on the defense.

"I called Montgomery today," she murmured when they were only a little ways from the exit and he glanced down to her, already reading the bad news in her face before she spoke it. "He wants me to spend at least another month recovering before I apply for reinstatement."

"It'll pass by quickly," he tried to say encouragingly, but Kate cast her eyes to the ground.

"I could be dead in a month."

Rick stopped, pulling her to a halt as well. She stared back at him with dark eyes that fell stark contrast to the pristine white snow flurries that were beginning to fall and catch in her hair.

"Don't say that."

"Rick-"

"No," he said seriously, tugging her close by the hand. "Ryan and Esposito are doing everything they can to crack Coonan and we've got an unmarked outside my place-"

"Because that's going to stop a hired assassin?" she challenged quietly. "I don't know why they want me dead, what I may have done two years ago to gain this kind of attention, but these guys aren't just going to back off."

"And you think being at the precinct would change this?" Rick questioned, doing his best to keep his voice low and level.

She pursed her lips and looked away, down to the barely touched container of coffee her fingers had been curled around for warmth. "It would be better than doing nothing while my mother's killer remains free and I continue to have a target on my back."

"Kate, you're not-"

"And what are you going to do when they come for me again?" she demanded, voice rising with simmering fury. "Jump in front of the bullet?" she snapped, wrenching her hand from his and turning on her heel.

He strode after her as she stalked off, caught up to her in just a few steps, just in time to literally catch her as she stumbled. Rick hooked his arm around her waist, pulled her back against his chest.

"No," she choked, letting him hold her up even as she tried to push him away. "Everybody's gone, and they're going to - you're not-"

"Breathe," he murmured into her hair. She was getting worked up and after all the walking they'd been doing, it was going to cause her body to give out. "Kate, I'm not going anywhere. We're going to get through this. Now take a deep breath."

She followed his instruction and inhaled slowly, turned into him as her breathing quieted and calmed.

"We're going to get through this," he repeated, and it took a moment, but she reluctantly nodded her head, whether she believed it herself or not. "For now, let's get some food in you and then we'll go home."

She sighed shakily into the crook of his neck and he squeezed her hip when she murmured her assent. They wordlessly walked out of the park, arms linked but still so much distance between them as they continued down the street to the Italian restaurant he had mentioned earlier.

"I'll find them," she said suddenly before they went inside, fierce resolution burning away the fear that had shadowed her eyes just minutes before. "And I want you with me when I do."

He tightened his grip on her hand, circled his thumb over the thriving pulse of her wrist. This wasn't a promise he should be making her.

"I will be."


	14. Chapter 14

Kate spent most of her first week in Rick's loft becoming well acquainted with his building's gym, his television, and his stereo system; enhancing the strength in her body with one and catching up on two years of missed media with the others. Being cooped up inside while he was at the hospital nearly ten hours a day wasn't ideal and was slowly driving her insane, but when he finally did return, he always offered to take her out without hesitation, despite how exhausted he appeared, and she always accepted.

They weren't dates, they were just… outings, to help with the minor bouts of PTSD that still flared up from time to time. It wasn't so bad now, though; she was able to walk down the street with him without feeling the distinctive panic building in her chest or worrying that someone was watching her somewhere, targeting her. She didn't doubt the latter was true, but at least she could push it out of her mind for a little while each evening.

They usually ended up strolling through the park closest to his building, she would let him hold her hand and he would let her guide them to wherever she wanted to go once they reached the park's exit. The night before, they had ended up at her mother's grave. She hadn't told Rick where they were going, wasn't even sure at first if she wanted to go after asking her father for the name of the cemetery, but she'd impulsively led them there and Rick hadn't argued when she'd continued to walk them inside.

He gave her a few minutes to herself, allowed her to speak privately with her mother even though it still felt surreal to be at her mother's grave, to accept that she was buried beneath the dirt now, and when she lost track of time, sitting in the snow and staring at Johanna Beckett's headstone, Rick coaxed her up and out of the cemetery and took her down the street to a deli for dinner.

Today, she hoped, wouldn't be quite so glum. She had called Lanie after they had arrived back at the loft last night and her best friend had arranged a well-needed shopping trip. Rick was supportive, but had a hard time hiding his apprehension.

"Did you do your exercises this morning?"

Kate rolled her eyes as she shrugged her coat on.

"Yes, Doctor. I did them all before I took my shower and I also ate the breakfast you made for me, now if you don't mind." She nudged him with her elbow until he quit blocking the door.

Rick knew better than to try and smother her, and throughout her stay in his home, he had done a surprisingly good job of giving her space and not pushing. But today was her first day going out into the world without him and the anxiety was radiating from him in waves as he bounced around on the balls of his feet beside her while they waited for Lanie to make her way up.

Eduardo had phoned him a few minutes ago to let him know her best friend was in the lobby and she had listened to Rick affirm her access to the building, but he still jumped at the expected knock on his front door.

"Rick," she chuckled, reaching out to squeeze his arm. "I'm going to be fine and I know how to work my phone, I swear I'll call you if anything goes wrong. Now open the door."

He sighed, although her assurances did seem to ease the tense set to his shoulders just slightly, and tugged the door open.

They were met with a girlish squeal the moment Lanie laid eyes on Kate, a gigantic smile claiming her lips as she stepped inside to engulf her best friend in a firm hug.

"Girl, it is _so _good to see you out of that hospital bed."

"Believe me, I know," Kate laughed as she pulled back and held her friend at arm's length. "Lanie, I wanted to introduce you to Rick before we go."

Lanie gave her a sly look that Kate instantly shot her a glare for, but Rick only grinned and held his hand out.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Ms. Parish. I'm sorry I missed you every time you visited Kate in the hospital."

Lanie accepted Rick's hand with a wide smile. "The pleasure is all mine, Doctor Rodgers."

"Well." Kate cleared her throat. "We better get going."

"Oh, wait!" Rick exclaimed suddenly, jogging into the kitchen and disappearing into the pantry for a brief moment before trotting back with a granola bar in his hand. "Just in case," he said, dropping the snack into her purse.

"Don't worry, Doctor Rodgers, I'll take good care of her," Lanie told him soothingly, but still with that knowing smirk spread across her mouth and an excited gleam in her eyes.

Kate huffed and linked arms with Lanie. "I'll see you when you get home from work, Rick."

He nodded, leaning against the doorjamb and watching her a little too fondly as she walked down the hallway with Lanie.

"Have fun."

Lanie held it in until they reached the sidewalk, but once they were in the throngs of human traffic, she squeezed Kate's bicep.

"You never told me your doctor was a hunk."

Beckett shook her head, knowing all along that girl talk over Rick was inevitable, but she actually didn't mind. She had missed this.

* * *

Kate didn't know what to do with all of her stuff. He had given her his room so she could avoid the stairs, but was she allowed to hang her new clothes in his closet? Was it okay to put her makeup and hair products on his bathroom counter, her shampoos and soaps in his shower? She just didn't know. She was still living out of the suitcase of things her dad had picked up for her, but there was no more room in her luggage and she wasn't exactly keen on shoving even more of her possessions in there anyway.

Kate huffed and dropped the bags on his bed; she could figure it out later.

She felt as though she had traveled throughout the entirety of Manhattan today, allowing Lanie to lead her into whatever establishment she had thought Kate desperately needed to browse through. Which had been many.

They had gone to the hair salon first, spending over an hour getting Kate's hair cut and colored, and she was surprised by how much better she looked and felt with just the first change. She was pleased with the four inches that had been removed, the layers that had been added, and the lightening in color. It was a refreshing improvement from the limp and dull locks that had cascaded down past her chest before.

Afterwards, they had stocked up on makeup, revamped her wardrobe with essential pieces that Lanie had insisted she needed for the upcoming spring season, and even come across the cherry scented lotion Kate had missed so dearly. Overall, it had been a successful trip that had allowed her to bond with her best friend again, but as she sat down on the bed, the La Perla bag caught her eye and she sighed, jerked the shopping bag into her lap.

They had only gone into the lingerie shop to look for Lanie - since apparently while Beckett had been out, her friend and Esposito were now an item. They'd gone their separate ways to browse and Kate had found herself eyeing a lacey, black number that was on sale. She could still feel the conversation with Lanie that had followed weighing fresh and heavy on her mind.

_"So have you slept with him yet?" Lanie asked as she came up behind her._

_"Lanie," Kate hissed, eyes darting around the shop out of instinct, as if she expected him to be there._

_"Well, you've spent an awful long time eyeing that chemise and I'm sure Rick would-"_

_"No, I - we - no. He's waiting for me," she murmured, looking down at the black lace in her hands and placing it back on the display rack with a sigh. _

_"Isn't that a good thing?" Lanie asked softly._

_"Yeah, it is."_

_"Then why do you look miserable over it?"_

_"Because…" Kate blew out a breath, tucking a piece of stray behind her ear as she'd tried to correspond her thoughts into a working order. "Sometimes I wish we weren't. I've put us in this limbo between friends and more. And I want... I want us to be more."_

_"Then what's stopping you, honey?"_

_"I lost the last two years of my life, I feel like I need time to rediscover things on my own, to be _me_ again before we go there. It doesn't feel right to get into a relationship so soon."_

_Lanie pondered that for a moment, humming to herself as she went over Kate's words in her head._

_"Why can't you do both?"_

_"I'm not-"_

_"Hold on," Lanie held up a mollifying hand to quiet her. "I know you were never great with relationships in the past." Kate huffed, already dreading where Lanie's speech was going because she was really not in the mood for a recap of that department in her life. "But Rick seems different from your past boyfriends, he seems like he could last." _

_Kate felt her heart pick up speed at Lanie's words, her palms sweating with it. _

_He could last._

_"I'm not saying I don't agree that you should spend some time getting your life back together," she continued. "But don't you think it'd be a shame to waste time you could be spending with him? Being happy and doing what we both know you want to do instead of forcing yourself to hold back?"_

_Kate bit her lip, sliding the flesh between her teeth and the soft material of the lingerie between her fingers. Could Lanie have a point? Was it a waste of time forcing both herself and Rick to wait. Did she even know what she was waiting for?_

_"What if the timing's wrong?" Kate mumbled back, revealing what was probably her biggest fear concerning her relationship with him._

_"We think we have all the time in the world, but nobody does. I think you know that better than anyone, sweetie," Lanie told her softly with a gentle hand on her arm. "I just don't want you to miss out on something great."_

_Lanie gave her a small smile before turning towards the cash register and Kate grabbed the lingerie._

And now it was sitting in her lap, scaring the shit out of her.

She impulsively tucked the bag under his bed, needing some reprieve from the weight of the fine lace and sheer fabric and the motive behind its place in his loft.

Instead, she turned, slipped a simple notepad from a different, less intimidating bag and skimmed her thumb along the edge of the plain black cover of the compact little journal. It reminded her a lot of the detective's notebook she used to have on her at all times when she was still a cop. Unfortunately, she wouldn't be writing down details for murder investigations in this one.

She had been making phone calls to Campbell's office every other day after admitting to him what had happened on the street the day of her discharge from the hospital, and he had suggested she keep a journal. Kate had never been one to desire documentations of her thoughts and feelings, but Campbell had advocated that it might benefit her in this situation.

"Just for a few weeks, Kate. Think of it as a way to document your progress," he had told her on the phone yesterday evening and she had reluctantly mumbled her assent and grabbed the little book on the way out of the bookstore she had dragged Lanie into.

She thought it best to write out her first entry while Rick was still at the hospital, but she didn't see a pen anywhere in his room. She strode into his office, her eyes scanning the shelves and the desk, but still no pen nor pencil in sight. Some writer. She thought someone of his profession would have writing utensils lying all over the place.

Kate took a seat in his leather office chair, intending to just peek in his top drawer, a quick sweep for what she was looking for without invading his privacy, but a single picture frame on the desktop caught her eye and she felt her heart simultaneously soften and crack at the photograph of his daughter.

She reached for the frame, reverently traced her fingers over the adorable face of the happy baby in the picture. It must have been before she was sick because the little girl looked to be in perfect health, a toothless smile on her tiny mouth and the bright blue eyes that mirrored her father's beaming at the camera. Kate sighed and carefully put the frame back, turned her attention back to his top drawer and tugged it open, but her eyes widened at the first thing she saw.

Sitting neatly in the drawer was a manuscript. For Richard Castle's last book.

Her mouth fell open.

He was Richard fucking Castle.


	15. Chapter 15

"Hey Beckett, I'm back and I brought Chinese," she heard him announce from the kitchen and she hastily shoved the desk drawer closed, pushed herself away from his desk, and hurried back into the bedroom.

"Kate?"

"Just a second," she called back, needing a moment to think of a plan. She had been trying to figure out his identity as a writer ever since he had revealed he was a published author, but with him offering her no hints and with little resources at hand, she hadn't actually thought she would learn the truth unless he gave in and told her.

She had to play this just right.

"I promise one of these days I'll make you a real meal," he was saying when he noticed her coming from the office while he splayed the multitude of styrofoam containers across the dining table.

"No worries, Castle. Chinese is my favorite."

"Good, because-"

She watched him freeze, his body immediately tensing as her words registered. Rick turned on his heel and looked to her in bewilderment.

"How-"

"You left the manuscript for _Storm Fall_ in your top desk drawer."

"And why exactly were you snooping through my drawers without a warrant, Detective Beckett?" he questioned with a teasingly quirked eyebrow and she felt any worry she might have had dissipate. She'd feared he might be upset about her learning the truth, but instead he looked… elated? Like he had been waiting for her to figure it out all along.

"I was innocently searching for a pen."

"Hmm," he nodded, abandoning the Chinese food to step towards her. "So, now that you've solved the mystery, how does it feel to be so intimately acquainted with your all time favorite author?"

She released an amused scoff at his question and swerved around him for the table when he got too close.

"Please, you know Patterson will always be my favorite," she insisted while she snagged a fork and began making her way through the buffet he had assembled.

"Aww Beckett, c'mon, _Patterson_?" he whined, following her with a pout as she scooped a small portion of food from each container onto her plate.

"One thing I do have to know, why Castle? What inspired that?"

She was truly curious, but when she glimpsed over her shoulder, he was rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment and diverting his gaze to the table.

"It just - sounded right." He shrugged and she couldn't remember a time she had ever seen him so self-conscious. "Had a nice ring to it, definitely better than Rodgers. Gotta have a memorable name if you want to sell books."

"_Castle_." She said the name slowly, enjoying the way it rolled off her tongue and how his eyes darkened a shade when he glanced back at her.

He shook his head, his voice husky when he murmured under his breath, "Gonna kill me, Beckett."

She was grinning when she put her plate down and went into the kitchen, grabbed two bottled waters from the fridge before returning to her usual seat.

"You look beautiful by the way," he commented as he sat down next to her with his own plate and she felt the blush automatically crawl up her neck as she ran her fingers through her hair, brushing her shoulders now and infused with the honey colored highlights she had always gravitated towards in the past. She was wearing makeup today as well, for the first time since she had woken up, and when she had seen her reflection after allowing the woman in Sephora to give her a quick makeover, she had actually smiled. That confidence she had been lacking over her appearance had finally returned.

"Thanks. I'm really starting to feel human again."

"You still looked beautiful before, I meant that, but now… You look more like the woman I remember from the subway."

She pushed her fork around her plate. "You didn't even know her."

"Wanted to."

"Then why didn't you?" she questioned, a little sharper than she had intended. "I mean, I always knew you were watching me. At first I thought I was being tailed, then I thought you were just a creep-"

He huffed indignantly. "I was _not _creepy."

"But then we met that night at the bar and you were so kind to me even though you could have easily taken advantage," she continued, but his face sobered.

"I would never do that to anyone, especially not you."

"I know, Rick," she sighed, smoothing her hand over his on top of the table. "My point is that I remember that night – the important parts – and I remember feeling tempted to cheat on Josh," she confessed, lowering her eyes in shame. "I remember feeling nauseous the entire ride home for even entertaining the idea of wanting someone I hardly knew, but still hoping I would see you again on the subway."

She watched him swallow hard from beneath her lashes, the surprise written blatantly across his face, and she retracted her hand, positioned it under her chin instead.

"How long was this before the accident?"

Kate rubbed at her temple in thought, perusing the calendar in her mind.

"Days, I think. Maybe three days before? Josh had been in Haiti and he'd just gotten back the day of the accident, so we were all going to meet for dinner," she murmured.

The days leading up to the car crash had been blurry for a while, but just like with everything else, they had slowly trickled back in with little trouble and she could recall the days, hours, even minutes before the event that had ended her mother's life and stolen a piece of hers. She guessed that was why she hadn't recognized Rick immediately for who he had once been to her, even after weeks with him in the hospital. He had always felt familiar, but she had never been able to properly place him.

"You want to know why I loved to watch you?"

She lifted her eyes from her plate for confirmation and he put his fork down, abandoning his meal completely.

"I realize I didn't know you, but I just – you inspired me, Kate. I don't know what it was, but there was always something about you that made me want to know your story, to write it."

"You wrote about me?"

He shrugged, trying to play it off, but that look of embarrassment was back and coloring his cheeks. "Sometimes, when I was blocked with Derrick Storm. I would write about Nikki Heat for a while."

"_Nikki_ _Heat_?" she repeated incredulously and he glanced back at her with a creased brow, questioning but ready to defend his character.

"It's a good name, a cop name."

"Castle, it's a stripper name."

"Well, I _had _intended to make her kinda slutty."

Kate playfully tossed her napkin at him, chuckled when it swiped across his face.

"Can I read it? What you have of the new book so far?"

The teasing glimmer left his eye and he turned back to his plate. "Maybe when it's completely finished. I don't like sharing my work when it's still in progress."

She nodded; she could respect that, but maybe in time, she could change it as well. Tease a chapter or two out of him.

"But I'll be the first to own a copy when you do finish?"

He smirked. "Of course, Beckett. I'll even autograph it for you."

* * *

As a doctor, and an all too short time as a father, he supposed his body was naturally attuned to awaken from sleep at even the slightest sound of distress or unnatural noise, so when he heard a thud followed by the distinctive sound of a cry from downstairs late that night, he was immediately up and bolting to his bedroom.

The door was cracked and when he silently nudged it open, he saw her huddled by the nightstand, wiping furiously at the tears dripping down her cheeks.

"Kate?"

He heard her curse and watched her shakily rise from the floor.

"Did I wake you up?" she murmured, sniffling quietly and self-consciously scraping back the tousled locks from her face.

"No," he lied. "I was doing some late night reading. Did you fall?"

She shrugged, turning her back on him to smooth a hand over the rumpled sheets.

"Did you have a nightmare, Kate?"

"Yeah, but it's fine, you can go back to bed, Castle."

"We can talk about it if-"

"I don't _want _to talk about it," she snapped suddenly, taking a deep breath a second later and glancing over her shoulder at him apologetically. "Please just go."

He nodded, still apprehensive to leave her, but knowing better than to push.

"I'll be upstairs if you need me."

She didn't answer, but he saw her climb back into the bed and tug the covers over her body while he was closing the door behind him and he held onto the hope that she would fall back to sleep without much trouble.

He stayed awake listening for half an hour, waiting patiently for any indication that she was still awake or being plagued by night terrors once more, but when he only encountered silence, he began to drift off against his will.

* * *

Rick woke sometime later in the night to a light pressure across his waist that slowly spread to his chest, a fluttering touch along his cheek encouraging his eyes to blink away the dissipating remains of sleep.

He wondered if he was dreaming when he realized the thing that had woken him was Kate Beckett, straddling his waist and planting kisses along his jaw.

"Kate?"

The nip to the sensitive skin behind his ear assured him this was most definitely not a dream.

"Kate, what-"

She captured his lips, the familiar sensation of her mouth sealing over his enough to quiet his questioning.

"I need you."

* * *

**A/N: The following chapter will be rated M. If you aren't comfortable with that, please feel free to skip over it.**

**As always, thanks for reading.**


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: Friendly reminder this chapter is rated M. **

**T rating will return in the next chapter.**

* * *

"I thought – waiting?" he mumbled through the assault on his lips, but Kate only smiled, reached for the hem of the t-shirt she wore, crossing her arms and smoothly removing the clothing from her body. Rick was hesitant, but eventually lifted his large hands to bracket her bare ribs, skim upwards to cup her breasts.

"Can we take a break from waiting?"

"If that's what you want," he replied a little dazedly, darkening blue eyes unable to remain still as they traveled up and down her exposed frame.

She hadn't planned this, not at all, but after lying in his bed for nearly two hours - nightmares playing on a loop behind her eyelids every time she closed them - she had found herself wandering up the stairs.

Castle sat up and she peeled the comforter back, let the sheet go with it and settled comfortably in his lap while he drew her body closer, dusted his mouth over her bare shoulder and leisurely migrated to her neck, taking the time to pay homage to every inch of skin he came across. Kate had been working at disposing of his t-shirt as well, but had to bury her fingers in his hair as the stubble at his jaw brushed across her sternum, over the slope of her breasts, setting her delicate skin on fire.

"_Castle_."

"Why are you calling me that now?" he murmured huskily into the hollow of her throat, scraping his teeth over the taut tendons of her neck when she swallowed.

"Because no one else does," she admitted, scratching gently at his scalp even as her head fell back. "It's mine."

He closed his mouth over the stretch of skin just beneath her jaw, laved his tongue over the spot, and pressed his thumbs over the hard ridges of her hips when they bucked forward. She reached for his face, tilting it upwards until she could find his lips again. They had only kissed a couple of times - sweet, chaste brushes of their lips - but now Castle kissed her deeply, slipping his tongue past her lips and drawing quiet moans she had no control over, the ever present electricity between them slowly sizzling towards explosion.

"All yours, Beckett," he agreed, letting his fingertips skim the undersides of her breasts before trailing reverent hands down her vertebrae.

She finally got his shirt off, as well as his pajama bottoms after some brief maneuvering between them, and then he was rolling her over, onto her back as he kissed a quick path down her abdomen. She had come to him in only her oversized t-shirt and the simple black boy shorts she had slipped into after her bath, and when he reached those, he glanced up at her for confirmation.

Kate nodded and he slid the underwear off.

"Rick," she panted, digging her fingers into the sheets at her sides as his mouth worked along each of her inner thighs. It had been a while since she'd had anyone touch her at all, let alone like this, and she was trying so hard not to come apart at just the feeling of his warm breath grazing over her.

"Is this okay?"

She nodded vigorously, trapping her bottom lip between her teeth to hold it together, but it did nothing to stop her from rising off the bed at the first touch of his tongue to her center. His arm slid across her hips like a barrier, holding her down as her body arched and writhed and sought more, needing more.

The hot brush of his tongue made her vision blur and the sensation of his mouth sucking on her clit was enough to have her vibrating with pleasure, dancing on the edge, and she involuntarily mewled when he teased a finger at her entrance. She moved one of her hands to his shoulder, clawed at his skin to keep him from stopping, gradually moved her fingers to fist in his hair as she accepted the welcome intrusion of first one, and then two of his fingers.

He brought her to her first orgasm embarrassingly fast, the ardent work of his mouth combined with only a few thrusts and the calculated curl of his fingers easily sending her plummeting over the edge with brilliant bursts of colors behind her eyes.

Castle was lying contently beside her when she blinked through the haze of pleasure and she reached for his face, tasted herself on his lips when she kissed him.

"I want you," she whispered, curling her leg around his thigh to tug his body back over hers, but he resisted and she glanced to him curiously with rejection stirring in the pit of her stomach. "Rick?"

"You're sure you don't want to stick to the plan? Because once we do this, I'm not going to be able to be just a friend, Kate," he told her seriously. "I won't be able to keep things platonic."

Warmth replaced the dissipating preparation for denial and she trailed her hand down, palmed his very prominent erection through his boxers.

"I don't want to be platonic."

Rick caught her hand and pinned it above her head as he pressed her back into the mattress. She tugged at his boxers with her free hand, only managing to get the waistband halfway down his hips before he mercifully shoved them off himself. Her anticipation bubbled up as she stroked him slowly, goose bumps scattering across her skin at the guttural moan she pulled from his throat. He retaliated with his mouth on her breast, tongue flicking roughly across her nipple, making her jerk and groan his name until he angled himself above her, chest brushing hers just barely as he slid his tip along the slick wetness of her folds.

Castle locked eyes with her and she nodded, spread her legs and pointed her toes into the mattress as her body rose to meet his. He entered her at a painstakingly slow pace, giving her the chance to adjust to every inch of him as he filled her.

"Okay?" he grunted and she tore her hand from under his, wrapped both arms around his neck and kissed him hard, gave her consent through the tight roll of her hips.

She ached just slightly through his first few strokes, her prolonged abstinence combined with his size causing her body to throb as it stretched to accommodate him. Gradually though, as he pulled out and tenderly glided back in, her muscles relaxed, reacted to the familiar pleasure he was inducing and tingled with the delicious friction he provided.

He was still being gentle with her, so painfully gentle even as she twisted her hips and whispered a plea for more in his ear, because despite how much she appreciated the conscious care he put into every touch, she needed more than soft caresses. She needed him to let go and make love to her.

"Castle," she breathed, the sound of his false last name so rich and right rolling past her lips. "Please, I won't break."

His eyes were dark when he looked at her, barely a hint of the kind cerulean that usually consumed his irises, and it was clear he had been holding back as he touched her, restraint behind every move. She skated a hand down his naked back, curled her fingers when she reached his ass and tugged. His rhythm broke and she arched at the sharp thrust she had caused, moaning at the sensation of his control finally slipping.

"You'll tell me to stop?"

"Yes," she gasped, lifting her legs to fold them high around his waist and urging him deeper. "I promise, Rick. Just don't stop now."

His speed increased, his thrusts growing harder and faster and she had to bite his shoulder to muffle the breathless scream threatening to escape. She felt the fire in her stomach burning bright like the whiteness behind her eyes as she slammed them shut, tried not to sob his name as she felt herself on the verge of combustion. Her inner walls squeezed and clenched around him and he choked her name into her neck, nearly losing his balance above her as he lowered one hand to swipe his fingers across her clit, only needing to circle her twice to have her flying apart around him.

He wasn't far behind, following her only a few thrusts later, and she pressed her fingertips into his spent muscles, coaxing his boneless body to finally sink down onto hers without concern. Kate buried her nose in his neck, brushing her lips to his sweat slicked skin and listening to his heart pound against hers as he attempted to catch his breath.

"No," she murmured when he tried to move, holding onto the heated blanket of his body. "Just stay for a minute."

He moved his lips to her cheek, feathered his mouth across her cheekbone until she turned to meet him. She slid her fingers into the hair at his nape as her tongue leisurely swept along his bottom lip, traced her thumb down his earlobe and allowed herself to smile into his mouth.

Castle eased out of her carefully and she whimpered softly at the loss of contact as he moved to snag the blankets that had been kicked away.

"Rick," she sighed, melding her body to his side once he pulled the blankets over them and lay on his back next to her.

"Hmm?"

Kate hooked one of her legs over his outer thigh, used the leverage to haul herself sideways until she was directly on top of him. Castle lazily trailed his hands over her thighs, her ass, her back - all the way up to her neck where he cradled her skull and kissed her languidly.

Her hips undulated against his, starting a lazy rhythm, and she could feel his body responding to hers without delay, skin already heating underneath hers despite the briefness of their cool down.

"One more?" she hummed, grinning wickedly as he groaned and tightened his grip on her when she nipped at his chin.

"You're going to kill me, Kate."

"I'll make this good then."

He choked on a laugh as she disappeared beneath the sheets.


	17. Chapter 17

Rick woke up alone in the guest bedroom, realizing he had been alone for a while as he smoothed his palm over the cool sheets where she had slept. He pressed the heels of his hands into his eye sockets and sighed. He had been hoping that for once things would be easy, but the fact that she hadn't even remained beside him for the entirety of their night together said otherwise. Their relationship had yet to begin, but it already felt demolished. He never should have given in and let her into his bed.

Castle swiped his boxers from the ground, slid into the underwear and the robe he had hanging on the door. It was still early, barely six in the morning, and he figured she had migrated back down to his bedroom whenever she had slipped from the guestroom. It would work better this way, give him the time to avoid her and whatever reasons she would have prepared for why she doesn't want to get involved, why her words of wanting more last night were now void this morning.

But when he reached the bottom of the stairs, he saw that she was in his kitchen, in his shirt, making coffee.

She smiled when she saw him, a radiant grin that contradicted every negative thought he had just so bitterly had about her.

"Morning," she hummed as he came up beside her. "Made you coffee."

"Thanks," he said, dumbstruck over seeing her in nothing but a button down she must have stolen from his closet and over the brilliant and unwavering smile she hid behind her hair, mussed and tousled from where his hands had been the night before. "How long have you been up?"

She shrugged, sipping slowly from her cup. "About half an hour. I usually get up around five-thirty to go to the bathroom, thought I'd make you breakfast. Kind of," she chuckled, demurely lowering her eyes, but stepping closer to him. "But I was actually ready to go back upstairs and wake you up."

His eyebrows rose comically as she slid a hand onto his hip, canted her body into his, and looked up to him with a mischievous twist of her lips.

"Are you feeling okay?" he asked out of habit, saw the split flare of annoyance that she tampered down.

Kate laced her arms around his neck. "You cleared me for sexual activity, remember?"

"Yeah," he nodded, dropped his hands to her waist. "And it was definitely warranted."

"So you liked it?"

"Yes," he answered immediately. "Loved it, all of it."

She beamed up at him, toyed with the fine hairs at the base of his skull as she lifted on her toes, pushed her body into his. "Me too," she murmured, painting her lips along his jaw, down to his throat. "I think we should do it again."

_Oh_… no, he hadn't been joking the night before, Kate Beckett was actually going to be the death of him.

"I need to take a shower," he replied distractedly, his hands slipping under her shirt, skating up the curve of her spine.

"So do I, let's conserve water and put the shower chair to good use."

He was late for work. They broke the chair.

* * *

She was in the middle of the yoga tape she had picked up the other day when Rick entered the loft and abruptly slammed the front door closed behind him. She grunted and gracelessly stumbled out of her warrior pose, wincing at the tugging soreness in her lower body.

"Castle?"

He didn't meet her eyes, but she could see from the set of his shoulders that something was wrong.

"You're home early," she commented quietly.

He turned to her and - oh, he was _angry._ She stopped a few feet away from him and waited, giving him time to offer an explanation, but when he still didn't speak, only glared at her with fire in his eyes, she tried again.

"What's wrong?"

"You tell me," he spat, storming past her.

"What are you talking-"

"Don't play dumb with me, Beckett," he growled, jerking a bottle of golden brown liquid from a cabinet in the kitchen and slamming it down on the countertop. But she didn't understand.

"I'm still not following you."

"I lost my job today. Fired."

Her jaw fell. "What? Why? You're-"

"Because _someone _leaked my identity, Kate. Everyone knows. Fucking paparazzi are swarming the sidewalks right now."

"But how…"

Wait.

He was blaming _her_ for this?

Kate crossed her arms defensively. "I didn't do this, Rick."

"Who else then? The only people who knew my secret were my agent, my publisher, and you. They have no reason to out me, so-"

"And I do?" she snapped back, stepping forward and invading his space.

He shrugged coldly, lifted the tumbler of scotch to his lips, but Kate snatched it from his hand before he could take a drink, poured the liquor down the sink.

His nostrils flared.

"I have no reason to share your secret either. I haven't said a word to anyone," she insisted, but the flaming anger in his eyes failed to dim. "You know what? I don't have to take this," she muttered, spinning away from him and heading for the door. She was not going to stand there and be accused of something she was positive she had nothing to do with, especially by someone who had claimed to care about her.

She had just slammed the door behind her - with far more force than necessary because if he could be immature, she could be too - but seconds later it was swinging open again and he was right on her heels.

"Kate."

She ignored him, punched her finger into the elevator's call button.

"Beckett, come back inside."

She kept her eyes on the elevator, waiting patiently for the doors to slide open and offer her an escape.

"I'm sorry, I was - I'm upset and I jumped to conclusions and I was wrong. I'm sorry."

"You don't trust me," she murmured quietly, still refusing to acknowledge his presence beside her, but not stepping into the elevator when it finally opened either. "I thought - after everything we've been through together, after _last night_…" she paused and breathed through it. "I thought trust was a mutual thing between us."

She glanced to him from the corner of her eye, saw the guilt and anguish blooming across his face, and she wanted to feel the satisfaction of making him see what he had done, but the mirroring pain in his eyes only made the wound he had caused plow deeper.

Kate scraped a hand through her hair and walked around him, back towards the loft's entryway.

"And now I can't even leave because I live here and there are people with cameras outside," she grumbled when she felt him fall into step behind her. He tried to touch her arm once they were inside, but she dodged his hand.

"Kate, I-"

She shook her head and looked back at him tiredly. "I need some time to myself, okay?"

She retreated into the office, into his bedroom, before he could say anything more. She couldn't handle anything more from him, not right now, so she stripped out of her workout clothes and slid into her nightshirt instead and crawled into his bed. Being engulfed in his smell as she burrowed beneath the covers wasn't much better than arguing with him, but at least here she could allow her face to crumple as she buried it in his pillow and cried freely.

* * *

He could hear her crying softly in his bedroom when he hesitantly ventured into the office. Castle - Rick - whoever the hell he was - fell into the armchair closest to the study's door and dug his knuckles into his eye sockets. He had made her _cry_.

It was obvious that Kate had not been the one to spill his secrets to the press, he knew that now and he had known it before, but he had just been so angry and overwhelmed and _confused_. Because it didn't make any sense for Paula or Gina to share his identity with the world, especially when they had signed papers to do the exact opposite. There was no motive either and before he had even properly taken the time to think it through, his mind had jumped to Kate – the only other person who knew the truth – and he had marched inside his home and thrown accusations at her like knives, watching as each word pierced her, but unable to stop until it was too late.

She wouldn't have done this, never would have done anything to cause any sort of betrayal, and he was an asshole for placing irrational blame on her simply because she was the only suspect left. He knew better than anyone that there was always a story, a chain of events behind every action, and he had failed to find it, failed to even look.

He wasn't sure he would ever be able to make this up to her.

His phone vibrated in his hand, shocking him out of his defeated state of loss and self-loathing, and Rick quickly stepped out of the office, traveled back towards the kitchen before he answered.

"Hello?"

"Oh, Richard dear."

Castle sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.

"Mother, it's great to hear from you, but could I call you back? Now's not a good time."

"I know, darling," she sighed. "That's why I'm calling."


	18. Chapter 18

Rick managed to last a full two and a half hours before he was knocking softly on the door. Kate had made herself shower and spent the multitude of minutes with her unruly thoughts in the time he had kept his distance. She still didn't feel ready to see him, hadn't completely let go of the anger she held towards him for accusing her, but she mumbled for him to come in.

She had returned to his bed after the shower, curled up in the goose down comforter and the Egyptian cotton sheets and wished for her mother. Her mother would have known what to do in a situation like this, would have known what to say, would have comforted her through the heartache as she had so many times before.

"I'm an asshole," was how Rick began his apology and she nodded along.

"You are," she confirmed, reluctantly sitting up in the bed.

"I know who leaked my identity," Rick said quietly, his gaze remaining guiltily lowered from hers, but she only waited for the reveal, didn't ask. "My mother called, confessed that she had accidentally spilled the truth to one of her friends last night when they all went out after a show. She'd been drinking, hadn't even realized what she'd done until she saw my face plastered across the evening news."

Kate sighed. His own mother. Granted, it appeared to be an accident, but she could clearly see this made the entire situation worse for him.

"Paula and Gina are happy," he muttered, more to himself than her. "They both agreed I needed a push, that it had been too long since I had published anything because I was too concerned with my work in the medical field. They think this is a good thing."

She scowled, disapproval of his business partners and a strong surge of protectiveness rivaling her pride. "They're selfish."

"And you're not," he said, shaking his head and squaring his jaw. "Of everyone who knew, you're the last person who would have done this to me, and I – I'm an asshole."

He turned to leave and Kate bit her lip, but called to him, pulled the comforter down on his side and beckoned for him slide in next to her.

"Just sit with me, Rick," she murmured when he remained standing near the doorway with uncertainty.

Castle waited a beat, but then he was walking around the bed and settling on the mattress, too far away from her.

"And the hospital? They just… fired you?"

He nodded, dropping his head back against the leather cushioning of the headboard. "It's too big of a risk to have someone famous working there."

"I'm sorry, I know being a doctor meant a lot to you."

"I'm not upset that I lost the job," he confessed, hesitantly meeting her eyes with something unresolved looming in his. "Or the fact that I can't be a doctor anymore. I just - I feel like I'm letting her down," he admitted, his voice wavering with the words. "I did this for her."

Her heart clenched and her resistance towards him lessened. Kate pulled her knees to her chest and rested her chin on her patella, gave in and reached for his hand.

"Castle, you could never let her down," she said softly but with conviction, tugging on him when he took her outstretched fingers and feeling that heavy stone of resentment steadily dissolving as he tentatively scooted closer to her in the king sized bed. "Alexis would be so proud to have you as her dad, no matter what your profession is."

The gratitude brightened his face, overshadowed the mist in his eyes, but he still shook his head and looked to her intently, brought her hand up against his chest.

"But that's no excuse for how I treated you," he pressed resolutely. "I'm sorry, Kate. I'm so sorry for taking all of this out on you. It was stupid and childish and-"

"It was," she agreed lightly. "But I can forgive you," she assured him, squeezing his hand and feeling her chest loosen a bit when he squeezed back and brushed his thumb along her knuckles. "But you have to know, I would never do something like that to you, Rick. You are - I care about you, and I knew how important it was to keep your secret before I even knew who you really were."

"I know, love," he murmured solemnly, but she was too distracted by that stupid term of endearment that made her heart trip. "I knew it couldn't have been you, but my mother was – I honestly forget she even knows who I really am sometimes. So I didn't even think – I didn't think," he concluded. "But I trust you, Kate," he added earnestly. "More than anyone else. You have to know-"

Kate shook her hand free from his and crawled over to him, straddled his waist because she needed the contact, the reassuring wall of his warm body vibrating with the words he spoke into hers.

"And I'm aware I have to prove that to you now, but I will," he vowed, closing his hands around her hips as she settled in his lap and snaked her arms around his neck.

She dropped her forehead to his. "I don't doubt that. But next time, Castle, please just _talk_ to me. You could have called me the moment all of this happened instead of letting it stew."

"I know," he sighed, frowning like a little boy receiving punishment. "I was just - this entire day has been such a mess. I can't believe my own mother sold me out."

She didn't mean to chuckle, but her laughter made his own lips tug upwards and he squeezed her hips.

"Why haven't I met your mother yet?" she inquired curiously.

Castle shrugged. "She's been on a tour these last few months, for her latest show."

Her brow creased slightly at the barely discernable trace of bitterness in his words.

"How long has she been doing these long types of tours?"

"Oh, years. Since I was a kid. She used to drag me along with her," he smiled softly, a reminiscent look in his eyes, but he quickly blinked it away. "It was never boring."

Abandonment wasn't the right term to describe the look on his face, but it was close. It was slowly occurring to her that of his small circle of trustworthy people, two were merely business associates, and one was his flighty mother, whom he hardly saw. He was a good man, an amazing man, and so few people in his life seemed to genuinely care about him.

Kate sighed and kissed the skin beneath his eye, momentarily startling him, but his palms trailed up her gently curved spine, hooked around her shoulders.

"Was it bad?" she asked quietly, curling her fingers around his ear and combing the others through his hair. "At the hospital today?"

"Not… yeah," he admitted, lowering his eyes again. "After my meeting with the board, it was like the walk of shame. A few of the nurses gushed over how much they loved my work, but otherwise I had a hospital full of death glares like I was some traitor."

"I still don't understand the big deal. Why can't you just do both?"

"I said the same thing," he sighed. "Basically, they feel it interferes too much with hospital rules and regulations, patient safety, and lots of other weak excuses," he muttered bitterly. "But honestly, I think they had been waiting for a reason to let me go, so this presented the perfect opportunity."

Kate tilted her head in confusion. "Why would they be looking for a reason to fire you?"

Rick's eyes darted away from hers and she felt her stomach twist with dread.

"They were pretty unhappy with how I treated you as a patient, the special care I showed you, moving you into my home... It was ultimately considered an ethics violation," he explained quietly.

Shit, so this really _was_ her fault.

"You were fired because of me," she murmured, but Rick was already shaking his head.

"I was aware of what I was doing, Kate. If this is anyone's fault, it's my own."

"Still-"

"No, I wouldn't change any of it," he told her adamantly. "I'd never change this."

She smiled softly, traced her thumb over the returning grin he gave. "They lost a brilliant doctor."

Kate cradled his skull when his forehead fell to rest against her collarbone.

"Maybe it's a good thing. I hadn't been happy there, not… not until you."

Her heart stumbled again and her breath did too, and she was sure he could feel both as they occurred, but he kept his head down and she feathered her lips across his temple.

"You make me happy too," she whispered and Castle lifted his head

She kissed him before he could say it, before she could even risk letting what she saw in his eyes come out of his mouth, and he cupped her jaw in his palm, kissed her long and slow before venturing away from her lips and onto the task of spreading a wordless apology along her skin.

It had never been this easy for her to recover from a fight with anyone else and never had she granted forgiveness so soon either, and maybe that should scare her, that she was so willing to accept his apologies as sincere and allow him to kiss away the hurt he had caused, but the fear of what it could all mean remained at bay as his stomach growled against hers and she laughed into his mouth.

He was right, it would take time for her trust in him to return to its full potential, but for now, they were okay and that was enough for her.

* * *

"Good run?" Castle asked from the kitchen as she came bounding inside, sweat trickling down the exposed expanse of her chest and arms. She had woken up early, before the sun, and told him she was heading downstairs to use his gym. That had been two hours ago.

He had a feeling she had spent the time taking out the tail end of her frustrations from their evening before on the treadmill – and probably the punching bag – instead of him.

"Yeah, thanks," she replied between breaths as he handed her a bottle of water.

"Will it make up for being trapped inside today?"

She rolled her eyes as she sipped greedily from the bottle, downing nearly half of the liquid before she spoke again.

"Stop feeling guilty, Rick. Not your fault those vultures decided to camp out on your sidewalk."

"But it's part of your recovery to-"

"Castle, I can handle a couple of days inside. After that, we can just start sneaking out."

"Sneaking around New York City with Kate Beckett, I like it," he mused and she huffed a laugh.

"You should have been around when I was a teenager."

"I feel for your parents."

"Mm, you should have seen their faces when they found out about the motorcycle," she smirked as she took another swig from the water bottle.

Castle arched an eyebrow, curiosity completely piqued.

"You had a motorcycle?"

"I _have _a motorcycle, Rick," she corrected, purposely accentuating the 'k' in his name and oh, what he would have given to have known Kate Beckett as a teenager. "Want to go for a ride sometime?"

"You already know the answer to that."

Her eyes glinted with mischief while she walked around him to get to the laundry room, stripping off her soaked tank top as she went.

"So did you get the bike around the same time you got the tattoo?" he asked, following her into the small room and openly ogling her as she shimmied out of her leggings too, eyes automatically flicking to the inked design deep below her left hipbone.

"Maybe."

Her sports bra was the next item to go and suddenly he was staring at a very naked Kate Beckett tossing the last of her clothing into his washing machine. She had become accustomed to his washer and dryer after days of wrestling with the machines' advanced settings and maybe it was the fact that she was so at home here, at home with him, or simply the domesticity of it all, but he found himself holding back words he knew he was not yet allowed to say. Again.

He had built up expectations of Kate those years ago on the train, convincing himself that she truly was an unattainable woman who could never be quite as wonderful in real life as he had imagined her to be. The problem, though, was that she not only lived up to every expectation he'd had of her, she exceeded them. She was better than he had imagined, better than what he had written of her as Nikki Heat.

And he was in love with her.

"Castle," she chuckled when he found himself stuck staring dazedly at her. "You act like you haven't seen it all before."

He shrugged, looping his arms around her bare, sweat stained body and pulling her against him, closeting away the very dangerous thoughts swarming his brain by focusing on the pleasant feel of her skin under his hands.

"You're still beautiful."

She sighed and lifted on her toes, stole a chaste kiss from his giving lips and captured his hands.

"Come shower with me," she murmured, leading him across the loft, helping him shed his pajamas along the way.

* * *

They had had an interesting day while stuck inside, mostly spent lounging on his couch, catching Kate up on all the recent TV series that Rick felt she needed to have as a part of her life, but she had still retired to his bed early in the evening, and he had followed. But it had only been a few hours when Rick woke unwillingly to his phone dancing noisily across his nightstand in the darkness. He swore under his breath and snatched it up before the vibrating device could wake Kate.

"Hello?" he murmured through the gravel of sleep lodged in his throat as he carefully disentangled from Beckett and slid out of bed.

"Mr. Castle."

Rick sighed, still not used to hearing anyone but Kate call him that.

"Yeah?"

"I'm a friend of Roy Montgomery's, we need to talk."

Castle paused, froze at the panic that instinctively twisted in his gut.

"I'm listening."

"Something bad is going to happen in a few hours time, Mr. Castle, and Detective Beckett's life will be in danger."

_Oh god_. Castle clutched the doorjamb to the bedroom to keep himself steady, glanced over his shoulder at the woman sleeping peacefully in his bed.

"Why?" he croaked.

"The _why_ is not important, now listen carefully. Roy Montgomery is dead."

"_What?_" he hissed, stepping into his office and silently shutting the door behind him. "He can't-"

"He is." The solemn voice on the other end of the line said. "They will come for me next, and then they will come for her."

"They, who is they?" Rick questioned, but the unknown voice went on as if he hadn't spoken.

"You will receive some files tomorrow morning, these files hold information that could bring down some powerful people. These files are the only chance of keeping Detective Beckett alive."

Castle pressed his fingers into one of his eye sockets, pressed down until stars burst behind his eyelid.

"What do I have to do?"

"They won't know you have them, take them to authorities, but discretion is key. Once they know, you're both done."

"And who is it that is sending me these files?" Castle managed to question steadily. "Who are you?"

"Again, not important, Mr. Castle. But Smith, if anyone asks you. Smith sent them."

Rick shook his head. He didn't believe for a second that 'Smith' was anything but an alias, but he didn't have the time to interrogate the man on his true identity; all he cared about now was ensuring Kate's safety.

"There has to be something I can do, somewhere I can take her. I have a place outside the city, I can-"

But the line went dead.


	19. Chapter 19

Rick had been in a state of terrified paranoia all morning, obsessively checking the windows and the doors, going through the safe in the wall of his office to make sure his passport and emergency bundle of cash were there and ready to grab. He knew he was worrying Kate, who had woken only an hour after he had spoken with the faceless man and was currently watching him pace around the loft after inquiring what was wrong multiple times and only getting forced reassurances from him. He'd wanted to tell her everything, immediately, but he wasn't sure if his source was reliable yet and he wouldn't risk scaring her. But when Ryan and Esposito showed up on his doorstep looking grim and devastated, he knew the mystery caller from that morning had been telling the truth.

"Someone called me earlier," Castle blurted when they were all huddled around his coffee table.

Esposito, who was the only member aside from Rick who didn't have tears blurring his vision, turned on him immediately.

"What do you mean someone called you?"

"A man - called himself Smith - said he was a friend of Montgomery's, and that he - that Montgomery was dead."

Kate's head jerked towards him.

"You knew he was dead and you didn't tell me?" she asked incredulously, hurt quickly creeping into the dark pools of her pained eyes.

"I didn't know if it was real," he told her, subtly sliding a hand over her knee and squeezing, needing her to believe him, needing her to remain at his side.

"Yo, what else did he say?" Esposito demanded from the armchair across from them.

"He said that they were coming for him, and then…" The lump in his throat made his words get stuck and Kate covered his hand with her own, willed him to continue with the desperate need to know burning in her gaze.

"Castle," she pressed softly.

"He said Beckett was next."

The room went still, the two detectives stiffening instantly before sharing a glance, but Kate only dropped her eyes, like she had expected it.

Ryan blinked and looked to Castle. "Did he say why or when or-"

"He hung up after that. The only other thing he mentioned was some files. He's going to send me some files that could do some serious damage," Rick murmured tiredly, scrubbing at his jaw with the hand that wasn't clutching Kate's.

"Do you think… could they maybe contain the identity of my mother's killer? The person who hired Coonan?"

Castle wanted to cringe at the determination in her eyes, the damn near excited flicker of having a lead. He was glad she wasn't panicking, sure, but some regard for her own life would be comforting.

"It's possible, but Kate…" His sentence trailed, but he knew she could read what he wasn't saying in the pained expression he couldn't control and she curled her fingers around his forearm.

"We can put her in protective custody," Ryan suggested, but Beckett immediately moved to reject it.

"I'm not going anywhere. Maybe this way we can lure them out, I can-"

"No," Castle barked. "You are not going to risk your life to play bait."

"Your boy's right, Beckett. Way too dangerous," Esposito conceded and Rick was so thankful for the reinforcement. He would handcuff her to the bed if he had to; he wasn't letting her put her own life in jeopardy.

"Can I talk to you in the kitchen for a moment?" Kate asked through gritted teeth, though it was quite clear that it was not a question.

Rick nodded and rose with her, followed her around the bar and settled against the refrigerator with his back to the boys while she glared daggers at him.

"I am not leaving."

"Kate, I could take you somewhere, anywhere, wherever you want to go. Just for a little while." He was begging and he knew it, but he had to at least try, even if it was truly pointless.

"Castle, she was my mother and this is my life. I trust Ryan and Esposito, but I have to be the one to close this. I can't run away and hide and just wait for it to be over."

"It wouldn't have to be forever," he murmured, the defeat already lacing through his voice. "Just until this immediate threat on your life lets up."

"Will it ever?" she questioned, crossing her arms over her chest, but he still reached for her hip, willed her closer.

Her eyes flickered to the living room, but the boys weren't paying attention – or they were doing a really convincing job of pretending they were fascinated by the gaming system Rick never had the time to play – and she slid her hand onto his side, splayed her fingers to fit between the spaces of his ribs.

"I can fight them now," she whispered earnestly.

But Castle shook his head; the loss, the hatred, her determined desire to fight burning like a fire in the dark forest of her eyes draining it all from him. She would never back down from this and there was nothing he could say or do that would change that.

"If I lose you, I won't - I can't-"

She covered his mouth with her own, soothing his fears with the caress of her lips and the stroke of her tongue, and Rick curved his arm around her waist to keep her there, kissing her in a way he knew made her dizzy. Sure enough, her knees wavered and her hips canted into his. He couldn't stop her, but he could remind her how good it was between them, what was at stake. He let her break away when there was a low whistle from the living room.

"Remember what you said before?" she mumbled, bumping her nose against his. Her focus on him, only him for just a moment. "We'll get through this. Together."

He wanted to believe her. He wanted to.

But he didn't.

* * *

Castle and Beckett got ready for Montgomery's funeral together but in silence. He dressed in all black and she did the same, a pair of tights under her slimming dress to combat the late February chill, her hair in a knot at her neck with her long bangs in wisps dancing along the edges of her cheeks.

The majority of her wardrobe shared the closet with his, as did all of her bathroom products in his en suite, and as wrong as it was in that moment, he felt hope flutter in his chest at the sight of her picking a coat from the same rack as his and plucking a bobby pin from the shelf where all of her hair products had taken residence.

"I made you coffee, and some toast."

Kate met his eyes in the bathroom mirror, offered him a crumbling smile that was hardly a smile at all.

"I don't think I can do food right now, but coffee sounds good," she replied quietly.

"You okay?" he asked after she had applied the last of her makeup and was stepping into the sleek black stilettos she had bought the week before during her time with Lanie. "I mean, as okay as you can be considering the circumstances."

"Yeah," she rasped, drifting over to straighten his tie. "Just stay close?"

Castle nodded, not that he had ever planned to leave her side in the first place.

"Of course."

Kate sighed and dropped her forehead to his chest, resting there for only a moment, but he welcomed it, welcomed the sign that she was showing any type of emotional toll at all.

She hadn't flinched, not since the boys had left yesterday afternoon and not during the long, silent night that had followed. The cold, calculating look had remained on her face for a near 24 hours, but there were moments, just brief handfuls of seconds, where she let it fall away.

In his bed, she had curled around him, weaving their limbs together until their bodies had formed an inseparable cocoon where she had actually found sleep for a couple of hours, and in the shower that morning she had wrapped her arms around him from behind, pressed her forehead to the skin between his shoulder blades, just holding on as the water cascaded down upon them both. She was doing the same now, arms around his torso, face hidden in his neck, eyelashes fluttering against his skin as she closed them and inhaled deeply, as if she were drawing strength from these points of solitude.

Again, he bit back the three words he wanted to say to her, knowing they would likely suck the strength out of her rather than fuel it, and splayed his hand at her back instead.

"The last conversation we had was about my reinstatement. That's all I cared about," she muttered. "I wish…"

She didn't finish, and his hand slid up to her nape, squeezed in a gesture of comfort.

Rick had never received the chance to meet her captain, but she had spoken highly of her mentor, her description of him akin to one of a second father, and Castle had looked forward to the day he would have been able to put a face to the name and the stories. This wasn't how he had imagined it.

* * *

He could tell she felt out of place inside the church, even looked a little hurt seeing all of her friends and colleagues dressed in their uniforms while she wore the attire of a civilian. But many of those officers and detectives still acknowledged her like she was still one of their own, with the utmost respect, and it seemed to ease her discomfort and fuel her determination to reclaim her place among them.

Castle could only be selfishly glad she wasn't pushing him away. Throughout the eulogy, she kept one of her hands cradled in his, rubbing her thumb along his skin, her ministrations speeding up whenever her emotions threatened to push over the edge of their confines.

At the burial service, he kept their hands tangled in his coat as they watched her captain's casket being lowered into the ground. Kate still refused to cry, kept the line of her mouth strict and her gaze steady, only occasionally tightening her fingers around his.

They were preparing to move into the stream of people lining up to give their final condolences to Montgomery's family, but a brief flash of light, a shimmer among the rows of tombstones, caught his eye. Once, then twice, and he already knew that the time to heed Smith's warning was up.

Castle lunged for her.


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N: Please note the M rating will come into play for the final section of this chapter. **

* * *

Kate grunted as he tackled her to the ground, protectively cradling her body against his when they hit the snow sprinkled grass.

Panicked screams from the crowd filled his ears, momentarily muting his hearing until Esposito's shouts to find the origin of the shot were breaking through, and then a frantic yelling from Ryan – _Beckett and Castle are down, both are down!_ – and no, no, _no_, Beckett could _not _be down. He refused to accept that.

"Kate," he gasped her name as he heaved himself up to refrain from crushing her. He felt the breath leave him at the smear of crimson along her cheek. "You're bleeding. Shit, you're-"

"Castle." She was trying to soothe him, trying to lift from the ground, but she shouldn't move yet. He didn't know where the entry wound was, if the bullet had gone through, or if it was still lodged into her flesh. He attempted to skim a hand along her side, searching for the source of the blood flow underneath her pea coat, but she captured his wandering fingers and squeezed hard. "Rick, it's not my blood," she insisted.

His brow scrunched in confusion, but her eyes were wide with terror as she forced herself into a sitting position and gently pressed her hand to his bicep, causing pain to shoot up and down his arm. _Now _he knew who had been shot.

He cursed and clenched his jaw as the adrenaline that had distracted him from the blooming pain receded and the searing throb of agony spread furiously along his arm as it collapsed under him. Kate called frantically for Lanie as she carefully rolled him over, keeping one hand hovering over his wound while the other cupped his cheek.

"I think it's just a graze," she was saying when the M.E. appeared at her side, but her words sounded muffled and he had to blink rapidly to keep his eyes from falling closed.

"Castle, hey, stay with me," Kate instructed from his side as Lanie ripped away the already torn sleeve of his blazer and began probing at the bloodied mess of his upper arm. He nodded, attempting to focus on his breathing and the way her fingers were combing through his hair as he watched her.

"Just a graze," Lanie confirmed. "Not too deep either, just needs some cleaning and some stitching. I can do it in the ambulance when it arrives."

"Yeah," Castle mumbled through gritted teeth. "No hospital."

Kate chuckled, weakly, but the small halfhearted laugh helped him breathe just a tiny bit easier.

* * *

Rick was trying not to wince as Lanie stitched up the skin the bullet had ripped through on the outside of his bicep. The wound wasn't bad, not as bad as it could have been, but he still had to grit his teeth and squeeze Beckett's hand through every tug of the needle and surgical thread through his sensitive skin.

Kate hadn't let go of him since he had been helped up from the cemetery grass, keeping an arm around his waist as she and Ryan had walked him to the nearby medical van and lacing their fingers when she sat down at his good side while Lanie worked on the other. Currently, his fingers were trapped between both of her sweaty palms, anxiously being tangled with and smoothed over until he stilled her nervous ministrations and made her meet his eyes.

He wished he could touch her, at least do more than simply hold her hand. He wanted to sooth her with his mouth and tuck her into his side, make her feel safe and stop looking like she was so damn guilty.

"We lost him," Ryan announced in defeat as he came bounding up to the open ambulance doors.

"How?" Kate questioned immediately, no defeat in her eyes, only a cold hardness.

"He had a head start on us, Beckett."

Castle watched her nod grimly, biting her tongue, and he was secretly glad she wasn't allowed back in the precinct yet. He could picture it all too clearly, see her spending every waking moment poring over files, searching for answers that refused to come. He knew she would insist she could handle it, but she looked absolutely unhinged beside him, and even though he knew she would never allow it, he wished he could take her away from all of this. Someplace safe.

"Don't worry, Beckett," Esposito said, flanking Ryan at the ambulance doors. "We'll find him and lean harder on Coonan too." His eyes slid over to Castle. "Glad you're not dead, bro."

It was the first time Esposito had spoken to him as anything other than someone who could cause potential harm to Beckett, and as he looked closer, he noticed there was gratitude in Esposito's dark eyes. Apparently, taking a bullet for Kate Beckett was how he proved himself.

"Thanks."

But Kate only looked grimmer, her mouth set in a tight line and her fingers clenching around his.

"Almost done, Castle," Lanie chimed in lightly. The M.E. was very diligent in her work and he had almost forgotten she was there, the painkiller she had given him subduing the ache in his arm to a dull roar.

"We'll keep you updated, call you the minute anything pops," Ryan told them assuredly before he and Esposito turned to leave.

Kate waited until they were gone to drop her head to his good shoulder.

Rick shared a look with Lanie as he carefully wrapped an arm around Beckett's hunched frame, the worry swarming her best friend's eyes matching his own.

"I'm going to assume you know how to handle at home care?" Lanie asked softly while she wrapped the bandaging securely around his arm and Rick nodded.

"Yeah, pretty sure I've given the talk on how to care for stitches enough that it's engrained into my brain," he joked with a lopsided grin.

"Then Beckett, you're free to take your man home," Lanie informed them. Kate did muster a thin smile of gratitude for her best friend, but the rigidity of her posture didn't loosen under Rick's arm.

"So, you still interested in playing doctor sometime?" he quipped after she had helped him down from the ambulance and they were shuffling across the snow-dusted cemetery towards his parked town car.

Kate stilled though, stiffening harshly under his arm and then slipping away from him, sending a reproachful look his way as she crossed her arms and kept a slow pace ahead of him.

So maybe lewd humor was not the way to fix this.

"Kate," he sighed after a few moments of walking in stifling silence. "Please talk to me."

She turned and Castle felt his heart snag in the cage of his ribs at the anguish weighing so heavily in her eyes, darkening them to a near black.

"You should have never allowed me to stay with you after the shooting in the hospital."

"I don't regret it," he answered quietly, shrugging his uninjured shoulder even as he ached with the regret he saw in her.

"It wasn't worth this," she whispered, but Castle shook his head vehemently.

"It was worth every second I got to spend with you."

A collision of disbelief and wonder spiraled in the pools of her eyes, the colors swirling like an angry autumn storm, and she instantly bit down on her lip to quell the hard quivering starting there.

"This is the second time you've nearly died for me, Rick. You just can't - how could you do that? How could you-"

"Because I love you," he said lightly, but he knew the admission was anything but.

She fell silent at the words, but didn't startle. Because she knew, had known. He had never been good at hiding it. He'd only been carefully holding the confession in, storing it away and fending off the urge to let it slip past his lips practically every time he saw her, knowing she wasn't ready to hear it.

"Rick-"

"I told you in the beginning, we would get through this together, and we will."

She shook her head, squeezing her eyes closed. "That was before. That was before I knew how serious this was. They killed my mother, they killed Montgomery, they're going to kill me-"

"No," he said, solemn but fierce, stepping forward to fold her into his arms instead. "Nothing's going to happen to you, Kate. We'll find a way."

"Don't, Castle," she sighed into his neck, brushing her lips over the skin she could reach. "Don't make me those types of promises. Just take me home."

He nodded, but continued to hold her, crushing her in his arms even as his newest injury violently protested.

* * *

They took the town car to his building and he had the driver let them out in the back. The interest in his identity as Richard Castle was slowly dying down, but there were a few reporters still lingering out front during the day and he was less than prepared to deal with that now.

Kate hooked her arm around his waist for physical support as they entered the lobby even though it wasn't needed and it made him nervous. She wasn't one to cling; she never minded his touch, welcomed it most days, but had never hung to him like this before and it was only one of the many indicators of how bad things really were for her, for them.

But in the elevator, she wrapped her arms around him, cautious of his injury, but engulfing him in her grief, hugging him tightly and pressing her forehead to his clavicle. Castle snaked his good arm around her neck, buried his fingers in her hair, causing more of the dark strands to slip free from the up-do that had been mostly devastated when he had tackled her to the ground. She was no longer sharing strength with him, she was losing it, letting it seep out of her with the tears.

She hadn't cried. Yesterday, when the boys had come to his home and delivered the news of Montgomery's death, she had remained dry-eyed and stony, forcing it all to remain inside. But now, he felt the tears stain his neck where she dropped her cheek.

They didn't stop as the two of them walked down the hall and she unlocked the loft, but once he had her inside, they started to increase and her face slowly fell apart. She slouched backwards into the door, slid down the hardwood until she was a crumpled mess on the floor, sobbing into her hands. Rick carefully knelt beside her, removed the black heels from her feet, and using his uninjured arm, hauled her into his lap.

The intensity of her cries grew, eventually she was sobbing so loud he was sure his neighbors could hear and his building was pretty well soundproofed, but he didn't try to console or quiet her. He had been expecting this and the more heartbreaking her weeping, the tighter he held her.

"I'm sorry," he whispered after a few minutes, when the sobs had turned to whimpers and the shudders wracked her body like aftershocks. "I'm so sorry, Kate."

"He shouldn't have had to die for this," she said hoarsely. "It should have been me."

"Stop," he growled, trying to keep his voice steady, but the hand on her back fisted in the soft material of her dress. He knew she had lost a lot, so much all at once, but so had he, and if he lost her too, again, he couldn't – not her. Not Kate. "Let's go lie down," he murmured softly, gently extricating himself from her and holding his hand out to her when he stood. But panic flashed in her eyes at the suggestion and she rose with intent.

"I won't sleep," she whispered, the despair rolling off her in waves, and then she was pressing into him, practically climbing him as his back hit the door.

"Kate-"

"Please," she was whimpering, knee at his hip, mouth fervent as she trailed hot, biting kisses along his neck. "Castle. Make me forget."

"Not like this," he argued halfheartedly, his concentration divided by the treacherous rock of her hips and the burn of her tongue over his skin.

His hands slid down her sides to curl at her thighs and he hoisted her into his arms, more to control than to encourage, and spun them, trapped her against the door even as his arm ached and throbbed with the effort.

"Careful, please be careful," she murmured, the soft brush of her fingers over the bandage around his bicep contradicting the desperation thrumming so frantically through her body.

"Beckett-"

She undulated her hips, hard. "Make me forget, just for now - make me forget everything but this, Castle, please, I just need you. Only you, just-"

He fused his mouth to hers, unable to handle anymore of the tearful begging, but he gentled her with the slow stroke of his tongue when she attempted to quicken their pace once more. She growled and he squeezed the supple skin of her ass under her dress, broke their kiss.

"If we're going to do this, we're doing it my way."

She hesitated, but nodded, tightened the legs around his waist as he carried her to the bed and took his time making her forget.

* * *

"Rick," she choked out as he laid her down on the bed, peeling her stockings from her legs with ease and pushing her underwear aside to find her clit with two fingers.

She cried out as he teased her, clawed at the dress pushed up around her waist.

"No, no, you," she keened, giving up on the dress and closing her fingers around the shoulder of his shirt. "I need _you_."

He slid her underwear down her legs, let her kick them off while he gingerly helped her slip the dress over her head. Her fingers dove to the waistband of his slacks, deftly unbuttoning and pushing them down his hips despite the trembling of her hands, which he graciously ignored.

Her hips jerked up when he was above her, frantically seeking, urgent, needing.

"Please, Castle-" His name trailed off on a moan as he thrust into her, the lingering gentleness dissipating as he hauled her leg high at his waist, her knee digging into his ribs and her toes curling into his back. She looped her hand around his shoulder, kept the other clutched at his nape, constantly reminding herself not to touch his right arm or evoke any type of pull or strain from the muscle. She couldn't hurt him anymore than she already had, more than she would-

"Stop thinking, Beckett," he growled, biting at her jaw and making her involuntarily arch upwards. He was hitting her hard in just the right places, pounding into her as deeply as he could go and – _oh god._

A string of curses fell from her lips, his name tangled on her tongue as she came. Her orgasm quickly triggered his, sent them both tumbling over the edge. When she came back to herself, his face was against her breast and his fingers were twined with hers in the rumpled sheets.

She tightened the leg still ensnared with his, kept her hand in his while the other raked through his sweaty hair. Tears still trickled from her eyes, falling silently down the sides of her face into her hairline, but she didn't try to stop them.

Rick turned onto his side after a while and she rolled with him, kept her body situated around his and hid her face in the crook of his neck. He didn't say anything, only swiped his thumb over the wet trails along her cheeks and slid his hand into her hair, cradling her skull to his chest.

He loved her. And she knew without doubt that she selfishly loved him back.


	21. Chapter 21

"It's fine, Kate," he murmured, again.

She had been tenderly stroking the surrounding skin of his injury for nearly fifteen minutes, breathing quiet questions concerning his health and trying to erase the image of the blood that had covered the skin of his arm so thickly when Lanie had cut away his clothing. She had been able to practically feel the skin throbbing under her light touch nearly an hour ago, after he had put too much weight on it, but the stitches hadn't torn and he swore he was feeling minimal pain.

But she had to be sure. It was her fault he had been shot in the first place and it could have been so much worse. He could have been shot in the chest, it could have been his heart, he could have-

She turned her face back into his chest, inhaled the heady scent of sweat and his aftershave.

And he loved her. She had suspected as much, seen it sparkling in his eyes plenty of times over the last month, but leaving the words unsaid had been best for the both of them. Now they were out there, and while part of her reveled in the beauty of them, the rest of her panicked. She was the wrong person to love, especially right now.

"Just sleep," he sighed, cupping the side of her face, brushing his knuckles down her cheek. "For tonight, we're safe, love. So just rest."

Kate lifted her head, sought his lips and kissed him slow.

They may have dodged a bullet today, literally, but it wasn't enough. She couldn't live with the fear of losing another person she cared about.

She waited until he dropped off into sleep to carefully extricate herself from his arms and the bed. She snatched one of his sweatshirts from the bureau and a pair of jeans from her duffel bag and then she started to pack.

* * *

Beckett hauled her bag over her shoulder as she headed towards the front door to his loft. She had packed up the majority of her belongings haphazardly into the duffel, but a few items of clothing, a pair or two of shoes, had been left behind for the sake of space and weight. She would come back for them, or ask him to send them to her, or just – she huffed at herself. She was treating this like it was a breakup, and it wasn't. They weren't even – there was nothing to break.

"Kate?"

She froze at the door, fingers poised over the handle of the coat closet, and glanced back to see him watching her from the living room. His blues eyes sparked with knowledge, but his features said he didn't want to believe he knew what she was doing.

"Are you-" His gaze fell to the duffle at her side and his question turned into a dejected statement. "You're leaving."

"I just - I think it would be best if I went to stay with my dad for a while."

Rick nodded dumbly and she felt the crestfallen expression on his face poke holes in her already sore heart, making the beats unsteady and painful.

"Castle, I told you I wasn't ready-"

"Until you crawled into bed with me in the middle of the night, right?" he countered, his eyes sharp but his face still shimmering with the hurt. He shrugged and turned away from her, shaking his head at himself and she curled her hands into fists to keep from reaching for him. "It's because I told you I loved you, isn't it?"

She wanted to tell him no, but she would be lying. Knowing he loved her was terrifying and wonderful and made her want to stay, but she was going to get him killed. She would put her mother's case to rest, pry the target from her back, and achieve the justice her family deserved, and then she could love him back, but now… not now.

"Rick-"

"I'd just thought you should know, but maybe that was a mistake. Maybe this entire thing was a mistake," he muttered and she was glad he couldn't see her as her lip began to tremble.

"We aren't a mistake," she whispered, but it only made it worse.

"Don't say that when it's obvious you don't believe it. Just - I'll call you a cab."

She swallowed, forced the grief from her features and nodded when he turned around. "Fine."

He didn't look at her as he brushed past and went into his bedroom, closed the door behind him. Kate grabbed her coat from the front closet, slipped out of the loft before he could return. She didn't want to hear him say goodbye.

* * *

She had never been to her father's new apartment. She wasn't even sure she was at the right place even though she had memorized the address while she was still in the hospital. Regardless, she still knocked on his door, kept her head down and squeezed her eyes closed to stop the stupidly relentless tears that continued to fill there.

"Katie?"

She glanced up, attempted to force a small smile for her dad even as he looked back at her in alarm.

"Can we go to the cabin?" she sniffed, knowing her eyes were likely still red rimmed and misty, but she wanted - no, she had run from what she wanted - she _needed_ time now. The time she had always planned to take for herself, without Rick. "Just for a little while?"

Her father sighed and cupped the side of her head, smoothing her hair from her face. "Only if you tell me what happened on the way."

She opened her mouth to protest, but nodded her consent instead, allowed her father to guide her inside his empty, one bedroom apartment that looked nothing like him. She tried not to dwell too much on that.

Jim packed quickly, and within minutes they were in his truck, starting down the streets of Manhattan and speeding along the highway, heading to the family vacation home where she hoped to find temporary sanctuary.

* * *

"So what happened, Katie? You sounded happy the other day on the phone," Jim began softly after they had driven out of the city, keeping his eyes on the road while Kate remained curled up in the passenger seat, wiping at her eyes with the sleeves of her sweatshirt. It smelled like him. "And I know today was rough, to put it lightly, but I thought having Rick around would be - I thought he would be good for you."

She sighed, pressed her forehead hard into the freezing glass of the window. "He is good for me. But he got shot today, Dad. Because of me."

Jim bit his lip, a habit she had picked up from him as a teenager, and spared a second to look over at her. "I don't have any food at the cabin right now, so I'm thinking we should have this conversation over a late dinner."

Kate nodded reluctantly. The cabin was a good hour and a half away and she hadn't eaten much of the chicken Rick had heated up for dinner at the loft a few hours ago, merely picking at the well-made meal while he watched her with worry. She caused him so much worry.

Jim pulled into the first place they came across, a small, all-night burger joint that she assumed he'd eaten at before by the way the older waitress smiled warm and welcoming at them.

"How's the bullet wound?" he asked as he led her to a booth in the back, real concern in the question.

"It was only a graze," she murmured. "Lanie said it would heal up completely in a few weeks and he seemed physically okay at the loft."

"Had you planned to leave tonight?"

Her father already knew the answer, this was just how he worked at slowly pulling the story out of her.

"No. He just – after the funeral, he told me he loved me," she whispered, ducking her head when the waitress brought them two waters and quickly took their order from Jim.

"And you weren't ready to hear that?"

Kate chewed on the inside of her cheek, kept her gaze on the paper napkin she was picking apart. "I already kind of knew, but I wasn't ready to hear it, no."

"So you ran." There was no judgment in her father's response, only comprehension and understanding. He did still her fidgeting fingers though, covered her jittery hands with his and held them firmly for a moment.

"I like Rick," he said. "But I love you, and I want what's best for you above all else, but Katie… this is what you do, what you've always done. Even before the accident."

Kate cocked her head in confusion, not wanting to admit to herself that she knew exactly where this was going, what he was going to say.

"When you get scared you hide."

"I'm not-" She sighed, shook her head at herself. "I don't _want_ to hide, Dad, but I don't want to be so - I don't want to love him back right now."

"But you do."

"But I do," she nodded. "Right now though, I don't think it would be fair to dive into this relationship with him, more than I already have, when I still need to spend some time fixing me." She couldn't also reveal to her father how she desperately wished to keep Rick out of the crosshairs, how the image of his body bludgeoned and bloodstained haunted her in dreams every night, how serious the situation with Johanna Beckett's killer really was. She wasn't lying to him, she was only telling half of the truth.

"Would you have stayed, had he not been shot today?" Jim questioned softly, squeezing her chilled fingers.

"Yes," she admitted, lowering her gaze back down to the shredded napkin in front of her. "I kept telling myself it would only be a few days, a couple of weeks at most, but I don't know when I actually intended to go." She retracted her hands from under her father's, folded them under her chin. Her qualms about 'waiting' and 'finding herself' seemed more like excuses now. She had found herself with him, and she could easily say she had been happier with Rick now than she had been before the accident. Aside from the crippling loss of her mother, she would definitely prefer a life with him over the one she had had two years ago. "It started to feel like home there."

"You know, it took me three years to know I was in love with your mother."

"Dad," she sighed, running both hands through her hair. She had heard this story, many times, and she had always loved it, the tale of how her parents had found love, but she didn't think she could handle hearing it now that the love story came with a tragic ending.

"I would give anything to have a minute of that time back."

"What are you saying? That I'm wasting time?" she demanded, feeling the tears of frustration building again, but Jim shook his head.

"No, honey. I don't want you to waste time _hiding_, not from something that makes you happy. There's a difference between healing and hiding though. So you take your time to heal, but if you need time, tell him that. Get your life back in order and then come back to this relationship, but don't shut him out, Katie, because that wouldn't be fair to either one of you."

"I don't know if he'll forgive me for walking out on him," she murmured quietly, pulling her hands into her lap when their food arrived and nodding her thanks to the waitress.

"He might be a little upset, but he'll forgive you."

"How do you know?" she muttered while nibbling on a fry.

Jim shrugged, as if it was the easiest answer in the world.

"He loves you."

When they finally arrived at the cabin later that night, she considered calling him as she got ready for bed, explaining everything and hoping he would understand, but she knew it would be better to wait until the morning, when her head would be clear and her eyes were no longer itchy and stinging. But before she put away the phone he had gotten for her, she typed out the words, a promise and reassurance rolled into one, and pressed the send button before she could talk herself out of it. She put the phone back on the nightstand, turned over in the bed so her back was to the device, and fell into sleep.

_I love you too._

* * *

**A/N: Only the epilogue remains. It's been an amazing ride, thank you.**


	22. Epilogue

Castle hadn't seen Kate Beckett in six weeks. She had spent a few of those weeks at her father's cabin, recovering alone, and he had taken up the offer to spend a month away on a book tour across the states, meeting his fans and letting everyone finally see who the real Richard Castle was. They had kept in touch – he spoke with her almost every day and even video chatted with her from time to time – but she hadn't returned to the loft and he hadn't sought her out. Even though he wanted to. He really wanted to.

She had a place nearby now and had been back at the precinct for nearly three weeks, reacquainting herself with her past life like she had always intended to. They had discussed meeting for coffee within a couple of days and she had even mentioned wanting to take him back to her new apartment so he could see the place for himself, so he was surprised when she showed up at his loft mere hours after they had made the plans during one of their daily phone conversations.

Surprise turned to horror when he opened the door and saw her standing there, bruised and battered and soaked to the skin from the storm raging outside, but with a smile.

"Castle."

His name was a sigh of relief on her upturned lips.

"What the hell happened to you?" he demanded, but she reached for him first, snaked her arms around his waist and splayed her fingers at his back, dropped her cheek to his collarbone.

An involuntary shudder clambered up his spine at the chill of her body against his, but the relief of seeing her, having her back, easily overpowered the fact that rainwater was seeping through his clothes.

He hesitated, mostly because he was afraid there were bruises he couldn't see underneath her clothing, but his arms circled her back, held her shivering body to his like he'd been wishing he could for the past 43 days.

"Kate," he murmured into the tangled mess of her hair. "What happened?"

She sighed. "Bad day at work."

"Here, let me-"

"No, no, just-" She pressed harder into him, clutching tightly when he moved to pull away, and he huffed, but continued to cradle her broken body in his doorway, silently savoring the familiar curve of her and the unmistakable scent of cherries still detectable underneath the grime of whatever hellish day she had been through.

"I missed you," she confessed quietly, lifting her head but keeping her arms secure around him.

Rick raised his hand to her face, feathered his fingers over the blossoming bruise on the side of her forehead and stroked her sopping hair back from the colorful skin.

"Missed you too, Kate."

She bit her lip as she gazed up at him, her irises a swirling sea of gold and a bottle green he had never seen before, excitement and uncertainty and what he would swear was love in the depths of her shining eyes.

"How's the case?"

The excitement ebbed from her face, a reserved darkness creeping along the corners of her eyes, but she blinked it away.

"I told you Coonan was killed."

Castle nodded. Their only lead had had his throat slit in his prison cell earlier in the month and Castle had almost demanded her new address as she had broken down over the phone because of it. The files Smith had spoken of had never arrived. Rick had a feeling whoever had been targeting Montgomery, Smith, and Beckett, had gotten to him before he could send them. Setting her team back to square one in the investigation.

"And how I had remembered a case my mom was working on before she died, one she wanted me to assist with?"

"Yes."

"I think that case was what started all of this, it has to be. And I think Coonan was killed because we were close to cracking him. But today, we were working a case and I – the sniper from the funeral came after me."

Rick stiffened, his hands jerking to her elbows as the terror constricted his gut, but Kate lifted a hand to his jaw, soothed him with the cool relief of her fingers to his cheek.

"I almost died, and in that moment, all I wanted - I was only thinking of you. I just wanted you."

Her words struck him like body blows; the admission that she had mingled so closely with death once more and that it had brought her here making his heart bash itself against his ribs with a breath stealing intensity.

"I won't give up," she added solemnly. "Whoever had my mother killed will be brought to justice. In time."

Her fingers ventured up his cheek, so soft and soothing, to curl around his ear.

"But I don't want to waste my life waiting for that day to come. I've wasted more than enough time."

She used the hand on his face to draw him in, share breath and just barely dust her lips over his.

"What do you want then?" he questioned quietly, needing her to say the words, to confirm his tentative hopes.

"You," she said earnestly, meeting his eyes through the dark curtain of her lashes. "I want a relationship with you, I want a life with you, Castle, and walking away from you never changed any of that. It only solidified it," she whispered into the small breath of space between them. "I love you."

Castle brought his hands up to cradle her face, sipped reverently from her mouth as his heart pounded so hard he could barely breathe as he kissed her. Kate's hands mirrored his, cupping his cheeks, caressing the ridge of his eye sockets with her thumbs, and hungrily sucking his lower lip into her mouth.

He pressed her backwards, using her body to shut his front door while he slanted his lips over hers resolutely, allowed his tongue to slip deeper and show how much he missed her.

* * *

"How'd you get so beat up?" he murmured, continuing to rake his fingers through the snarls of her irrecoverably tangled hair.

"I was thrown off a roof."

His body stilled under hers and she tilted her head, pressed her open mouth to the underside of his jaw to loosen him back up.

"I'm fine."

"You're not," he huffed, his fingers tripping down her naked back, tracing over the patterns of scrapes and bruises he'd already memorized.

"Good thing I have a doctor to take care of me then."

"Better be the only one taking care of you, Kate Beckett."

She grinned, a delighted shiver erupting over her sated skin, and tightened the leg twined around his thigh, used the arm draped across his chest to reach for his head and pull him down for a kiss.

"You know you're the only one allowed to check me out."

A proud smile flickered across his mouth and he gently squeezed her shoulder as the persistent storm continued to rumble on outside, the lightening illuminating the content gleam in his eyes.

"You should rest. Don't you have a shift at seven tomorrow?"

Kate rolled onto her back, tilting her head back into the muscle of his arm under her neck.

"Actually, I'm suspended."

Castle pushed up on an elbow to stare down at her. "Suspended?"

"I may have gone against the new captain's orders…"

"Beckett," he murmured quietly, a mixture of confusion and reprimand in his eyes. "You just got back."

"I know," she sighed, dropping her forearm over her eyes. "But it's only for a couple of weeks. Gates isn't happy, but she's surprisingly understanding."

"But if you're not at the precinct, how will you work your mom's case?"

Kate pursed her lips and sat up, tugging him along with her.

"I was serious earlier, Castle," she stated, finding his hand in the mess of sheets and gripping his fingers firmly in hers. "I've been working her case since I got back to the Twelfth, and it made me see a lot of things I hadn't before," she explained, hoping she was making sense, hoping he was following and that they were on the same page, because this was important. He had to understand.

"Like?"

"Like, how blind it makes me." She swallowed, tracing her fingertips over the raised line of skin at his bicep, the still healing scar a reminder of what she stood to lose. "I was being reckless, today. It was just me and Esposito out there, no backup, and it took getting thrown off a building to see I wasn't necessarily going about this the right way."

His eyes darkened, the scene playing out clearly in his mind through only her brief description. "I would honestly prefer you go about it in a way that spares your life," he said gravely and she nodded in agreement.

"Yes, but my point is that it also made me realize how much I was missing. I feel like I was given a second chance, waking up after the coma, and you were right. I was throwing it away. I don't want to do that anymore."

His brow was still furrowed so she took a breath, prepared to lay it all out for him the best she could.

"You're first, you're more important to me than any case, even - even hers. She would want me happy. I'm happiest with you," she told him sincerely, lifting a hand to stroke reverent fingers at his jaw. "All I want is you."

"You have me," he said quietly, moving a hand to the taut skin of her outer thigh, up to the prominent bone of her hip, and curling his fingers there in reassurance.

"She would have loved you, Castle," she added as an afterthought, a smile flickering at the corner of her lips. "My mom loved your books and she would have adored you."

"Shit, Beckett," he huffed, turning his head and attempting to subtly swipe at his eyes.

Kate leaned forward to lace her arms around his neck, let him crush her against him in that same breath stealing way he had nearly two months ago at Montgomery's funeral. And she hugged him back, firm and secure even as her body ached with the vivid mosaic of newly painted cuts and contusions across her skin; he felt like home and relief and safety and she never wanted to leave this refuge again.

Castle nuzzled his face into her hair and the steady rise and fall of his chest against hers slowly began to lull her to sleep, but she stirred and blinked to keep the exhaustion at bay, still having more to tell him.

"My new captain, she isn't too fond of me, but she is a fan of Richard Castle," she mumbled and felt him shift curiously.

"Oh really?" he asked, arching an inquisitive eyebrow as she raised her head to see him.

"Yeah, and she wouldn't mind too terribly if he rode along with me for a little while. When I'm allowed back, and in her good graces again that is."

"You asking me to be your crime solving partner?"

She smirked. "I never said anything about partners, Castle."

"Plucky sidekick then?"

A small pool of fear rushed in her stomach. Plucky sidekicks were always the ones getting killed. God, she hoped letting him into this part of her life wouldn't be the greatest mistake she could make.

"Maybe - maybe partner after all," she conceded softly, brushing her thumb over the grin spreading across his lips.

"Well, in the meantime, how do you intend to spend your suspension, Detective Beckett?" he asked, seeming genuinely curious as he threaded his fingers in a bridge at the base of her spine.

Kate bit her lip and pressed him down into the mattress.

"I've got a pretty good idea."

* * *

**Eight months later**

* * *

"I can't believe we're moving all of this stuff back in. Again," Castle grunted as he hauled a box that he was positive held some type of apparel (shoes, he was betting by the weight of it) across the living room.

"Well, on the upside, most of my clothes made it here ahead of time," she said pointedly, narrowing her eyes from the kitchen where she was popping grapes into her mouth, because maybe he had played a part in sneaking a few blouses, her favorite pairs of jeans, and even some of her underwear to his place. But she had been staying over at the loft more than her own apartment for the last few months, her place practically barren most of the time, so he didn't see a problem.

"I feel no shame."

She came around from the kitchen, bypassed him with a smirk to grab a box of books and head into his office.

When he didn't hear from her after a good fifteen minutes, Castle followed her footsteps, poked his head into the study and found her curled in his desk chair, something cradled in her hands.

Kate met his eyes, unfurled her fingers to reveal the velvet box in her palm, and he immediately tensed.

She had found the ring.

"You need to find a new hiding place," she murmured quietly.

"You need to stop snooping through my drawers," he countered with a hesitant grin, approaching her cautiously, unable to gauge her reaction to the gift she was not yet supposed to have received.

"How long has it been in there?" she whispered, staring down at the little blue box in her hands, caressing it reverently with her thumb, and he nervously rubbed at the back of his neck.

"A few months. When I – after you came back to me."

Her eyes darted back up to him, the pools of amber sparkling, soft and alive with hints of liquid gold.

"I was saving it for Christmas. Guess I'm going to need to find you a new present," he chuckled to hide the apprehensive note to his voice, though she knew him so well, he was sure she had caught it with ease.

"Ask me." She offered the box up to him, pressing her lips together, her mouth tight in an adorable line to hold back her excitement.

His heart began to pound.

"Really?"

"Yes," she urged, grabbing his hand and curling his fingers around the box. "Ask me to marry you, Castle."

This was actually happening. Shit, he hadn't even – he still needed time to rehearse, make the words just right.

Rick took a deep breath and lowered himself to one knee, stared up at her in his office chair, the early morning light shimmering down on her and making her smile shine even brighter.

"Katherine Houghton Beckett," he got out shakily, carefully flipping open the velvet box and slipping the ring free from its soft confines, holding it up between them. "Will you marry me?"

He hadn't even been able to put the ring on her finger before she was practically launching herself at him, pitching from the seat above to fall into him, arms around his neck, lips crushed against his. He splayed a palm at her back, clutched her tight in something close to disbelief.

Castle laughed, teeth clacking with hers as their smiles bumped, and grasped at her hand when it slid to rest at his chest.

"Yes," she breathed as she dropped her forehead to his, watched him slide the sparkling, silver band onto her finger.

"I didn't think you'd be so excited," he admitted sheepishly, stroking at the delicate, papery skin beneath one of her eyes because she was near tears. Glimmering eyes, beaming smile, her entire face illuminated as they sat in a tangled mess on the floor of his study. He'd never dreamed he could make her this happy, that she would want this as much as he did. "Are you – are you actually crying?"

"Shut up," she huffed, ducking her head to bury her face in his shoulder.

His fiancé. His wife - he couldn't wait to call her that.

Kate curved her hand at the back of his neck, slipped her fingers into the fine hair at the base of his skull. "The thought of marrying you has always made me excited."

Has always made her… She had thought about this before? Had she-

"It's always been yes," she whispered, tilting her face up to press her lips to his jaw.

It struck him - as it so often did - how they had gotten here, made him want to believe in magic and destiny and all the other things he used to scoff at in the past. Their life together wasn't easy; the release of _Heat Wave _in September had the press pouncing on them again, and the battle with the Dragon – a battle they had yet to win – was far from over, her deal with the dirty senator who had killed her mother - tried to kill her - still thin and uncertain. But he wasn't scared of losing her anymore.

They were certain, bound together with trust built over time. Partners, lovers, everything he could have imagined for them and more.

"We're going to be great," he promised her, but she shook her head against him, the smile still unwavering on her face.

"We already are."

* * *

_The End._

* * *

**I'll attempt to keep this final author's note short, but I just wanted to sincerely thank every single one of you for reading, reviewing, favoriting, and following. The response I got to this little story blew me away and your support means more than I will ever be able to put into words.**

**A huge thank you to Liz, who read over every chapter while simultaneously convincing me this story was actually worthy of being read by others. Thank you for always making me feel like a better writer than I really am.**

**tumblr: bravevulnerability**

**twitter: onlythebattles**


End file.
